Exactly two years ago, I started uploading my stories. Since then, I've published 14 stories, 13 of which are complete. A total amount of 750,000 words. Not bad, uh?
I think that deserves some celebration, and given that lately you have been amazing with your comments/reviews, what better way of celebrating than with more fiction?
So, starting today and until the next Tuesday, I'm going give you three gifts:
- This story
- A new chapter of Discovering Ourselves
- A new short story.
The first one, this, is, by popular the demand, the story of how Ron and Hermione got together prior to the start of Discovering Ourselves. As that story is a compilation of (mostly) sexual moments for them, it starts when they've been going out for more than a month.
So yes, I'm publishing a story with no smut at all. Of course, it's still rated 'M' because well, it's from Ron's POV, after all …
In the first chapter of Discovering Ourselves, I give a glimpse of how Ron broke up with Lavender. In case you hadn't read that (and even if you did) and this is AU, Ron broke up with her around the middle of February.
I loved writing this fic, and I used it to emphasise the reasons why I think Ron and Hermione are fantastic together, and why, though neither of them are perfect, they are what the other needs.
Enjoy!
The first thing he became aware of was the darkness surrounding him: vast, impenetrable, suffocating. Where the hell was he? How had he ended here?
He had vague memories of distant voices and sounds, but nothing clear, and his brain (did he have a brain?) felt slow and muddled, unable to really think. He tried to ask for help, but only gurgles came out of his parched throat —
Wait — he had a throat, then? He tried to yell again, to ask for water, because now that he was aware of it, the thirst was quickly overcoming the soreness. However, nothing came of him but another raspy sound.
A sense of terrible dread invaded him.
However, before he could give up to desperation, a sudden, distant voice, broke through the daze he was in.
"Ron?"
Hermione?
The world seemed to shift in a way that made him dizzy, and, when the nauseating sensation vanished, he realised he was lying on a bed and tried to open his eyes. With great effort (his eyelids seemed to weight a ton), he managed to do it, revealing a world made of blurry shapes. He blinked a couple of times and everything started to become sharper, allowing him to see he was in the hospital wing. What the fuck was he doing there? What had happened? Had he taken a bludger to the head during a practice?
"Ron, you're awake!" he heard Hermione exclaim, her voice relieved and full of emotion. Hearing her seemed to stir something in him, and he managed to turn his head to his left to look at her, who was now standing next to his bed, watching him, her expression a mixture of nervousness and hopefulness.
Fuck, she was so fucking pretty, and seeing her first think after waking up was more than a dream come true. Despite his confusion, however, he soon realised this didn't add up. Hermione hated his guts so, what was she doing here? Maybe he was still dreaming? But — if that was the case, why did he feel so sore?
"'E'ma'nee?" he mumbled.
"Yes, it's me," she said anxiously. "Are you all right? Are you in pain? Do you need something? Oh, Ron, I've never been so scared before!" she blurted out quickly, clearly on the brink of tears. He wanted to talk to her, to ask her if she was real, but he needed to drink first.
"'warah."
"What?"
"warah."
"Water?"
He managed to nod. Quickly, she turned towards the nightstand and poured some in a glass. Ron tried to sit up, but his body protested loudly, and he sagged again, letting out a moan.
Noticing his predicament, Hermione helped him, gently and carefully, adding another pillow behind his back to help him stay in a sitting position. Then took the glass to his lips and he drank eagerly. The coolness was glory to his sore throat, so he gulped and gulped until the glass was empty. Hermione moved it away.
"More?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, thanks."
"Madam Pomfrey told me that if you woke up, you'd have to drink this," she said, pouring a slightly lilac potion into the glass. "It'll help with your soreness and your muscles."
He nodded, but the moment it touched his lips he grimaced and turned his head. Fuck, it tasted like frog soup or something like that.
"You've got to drink it," said Hermione patiently. "Come on," she encouraged, pressing the glass against his lips. Ron drew a breath and then opened his mouth, gulping down the potion. He groaned, disgusted, after swallowing. However, the effect was almost instantaneous, and he suddenly felt much more awake and capable of moving, albeit carefully.
"Better?"
"Yeah."
Hermione put the glass back on the nightstand and then sat down on a chair. An awkward silence fell upon them, with neither of them knowing what to say or how to start a conversation. They both seemed to have remembered that they had barely talked in the last four months, a fact that was now like a thick wall between them. Ron had lots of questions for her (What was he doing in the hospital wing? And more importantly, what was she doing here with him?) but he felt his courage failing him. What a failure of a Gryffindor he was.
"Do you — do remember what happened?" she asked suddenly and quite shyly, breaking the silence.
Glad for it, he tried to think about it, though it was rather hard. "I remember waking up, feeling quite excited … Oh, yeah, it was my birthday!" She nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I started opening my presents … Then I — Shit, I ate cauldron cakes laced with a love potion and it was as if I was in — in — with — Shit, Romilda Vane! Of all people!" he exclaimed, horrified. "Bloody fuck …"
Hermione nodded again. "Do you remember the rest?"
He scrunched his face in an effort to recall what had happened next. His brain still felt a bit muddled and trying to remember was difficult, even a bit painful. "Harry took me to Slughorn's office, I think … Yeah, we went there. Harry explained things to him, then he gave me an antidote … Merlin, that was embarrassing …"
"And then?"
"Something about a drink?" he suggested, unsure. "I think he offered us some mead — or did I dream that?"
"No, that happened," confirmed Hermione.
"So it wasn't the love potion what got me ill, 'cause I felt okay after the antidote." He frowned. "How did I end up here, then? And how long have I been out?"
"It was the mead. It was poisoned. You dr—"
"Slughorn tried to kill me!?" he shouted, horrified. "Fuck, I know I'm not his favourite student, but to try and —" He stopped talking when another, more plausible reason came to him. "Wait a moment — was he trying to kill Harry?"
"No. He didn't know it was poisoned. Someone sent the bottle to him as a gift for Dumbledore."
Ron frowned. "Why? Wouldn't it be better to give it to Dumbledore directly?" he asked. "I mean, Slughorn is not one to go around giving away treats like fine mead."
Hermione nodded fervently. "Yes, that's what I think as well. Whoever planned this as a murder attempt isn't very clever, though he's clearly very dangerous."
Ron nodded slowly. "But, if I drank poisoned mead, how did I survive? Was Slughorn able to give me an antidote?"
"Harry gave you a bezoar and saved you. But it was such a close call, Ron," she added, her voice trembling once more. "H-half a minute later and you would have — you w-would — Oh, gods!" she exclaimed, now openly crying.
"Hermione …" he said, his voice soft. "Hey, it's okay. I'm fine," he added to reassure her, though he couldn't help but think it was almost a miracle he was alive. Fuck, he was going to have to give Harry a really good birthday present.
"But you could have died, and I — I —" she tried to say, then shook her head and buried her face in her hands.
Ron looked at her, a warm feeling spreading throughout his body due to the fact that she seemed to still care about him. After everything that had happened, after the way he had treated her, she was here, worried sick about him.
Fuck, he loved her.
The unexpected thought hit him like a bludger, leaving him slightly dizzy, yet he couldn't deny its truth. He knew he fancied her like mad, obviously, but now, being here, with her, after so many months without her in his life, he knew it without a doubt: he was in love with Hermione Granger.
Holy shit.
Realising she was still sobbing, he shook his head a bit. There would be time to think about his feelings for her later. "But I didn't die," he insisted. Seeing her so distraught, he wanted nothing more than to take her hand in his, to offer her comfort, yet he didn't dare to, afraid of breaking this unexpected, but very welcome truce. "What day is it, then?" he asked to change the subject a bit.
She brushed her eyes before answering. "Sunday. You've been here for a day and a half."
He nodded, digesting the information. "I missed my birthday, then."
"Well, you practically were born again, so from now on you'll have to have a double celebration."
"Right," he said, nodding. He smiled. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad. It'll be nice to get twice the number of gifts," he joked. He almost expected her to laugh, but, though she nodded, she remained serious. "And — where are Harry and Ginny? And mum and dad? Didn't they come?"
"Yes, they came yesterday and again this morning. So did Fred and George, by the way. I suppose your parents will be back tomorrow to see you, now you're awake. Harry and Ginny were here, too, but they went down to dinner a while ago."
"And why aren't you with them? Having dinner, I mean," he enquired.
She averted her eyes. "I just — I wasn't hungry."
"You could have gone to the common room, but you're here," he said. When she looked at him again, he forced himself to look at her in the eye. "I — I thought you hated me."
She lowered her gaze, blushing a little. "I could never hate you, Ron," she responded in a small voice. "I was angry at you, yes. Like really, really angry. But I couldn't hate you. By the way, I know I acted really childish, but I'm too stubborn, and I was so angry and too full of myself to consider a change of actions. But when — when Harry told me yesterday morning what —" her voice trembled a little, and she had to swallow, "what had happened, the only thing I could think about was that you could have died, and I hadn't said a kind word to you in months."
"Well, it's not your sole fault, you know. I was a stupid prat as well. I treated you horribly —"
"But you didn't attack me, did you?" she interrupted. "Gods, Ron, that was so awful! You should have reported me to McGonagall!"
"Don't be an idiot. Okay, that was rather mean, I won't deny it, but —"
"But nothing! If it had been you attacking me out of jealousy, I probably wouldn't have talked to you again in your life, saying you're chauvinistic, possessive asshole! The fact that I am a woman doesn't make it better! You were disarmed! I was legally an adult and you weren't!"
Ron was too astounded by her open admission of being jealous that he could barely give the rest a momentary thought.
"Okay, it was really bad, probably your lowest moment, but Hermione, everyone makes mistakes. I know you aren't like that, so I forgive you."
"You shouldn't. I had no right to act like that just because you had got a — a girlfriend," she admitted, blushing deeply. "You had promised me nothing, we had only agreed to go together to a party, and we never said it was a — a d-date."
"Hermione, I treated you horribly as well during that week. Before the match. And you were right, I believed I had taken the potion, too."
"I shouldn't have said that. I know you're good at Quidditch."
"But in that match I played incredible. Better than ever and by a large margin. Besides, given the circumstances — Malfoy not playing, the good weather … But well, that was Harry's plan, right? To convince me I had drunk it. I suppose he did a really good job."
"Yes," nodded Hermione a bit sadly. Silence fell upon them again, but before Ron could think about how to address what he really wanted to address, Hermione spoke again. "You really played brilliantly. I always knew you'd be great in anything you tried as long as you had confidence in yourself, Ron," she declared, and Ron knew she was being completely sincere.
"Thanks. Though it's a bit silly, isn't it? That I'm able to play better just because I think I'll play better …"
"You can play better without that. You were amazing last year. And it is not silly. Remember Harry only managed to cast a Patronus because he knew he had already done it."
"Yeah. Had forgotten 'bout that."
They got quiet again, and she began to fidget with her hands, biting her lower lip in that way that drove Ron mad.
"You were jealous."
"What?" she asked, raising her head to look at him.
"You said you were jealous." At his words, Hermione's cheeks turned pink again. For a moment, Ron thought she wasn't going to respond, but then she seemed to compose herself and looked at him, shrugging.
"Well, that was rather obvious, wasn't it?" she admitted nonchalantly. "I mean, there's only one reason why someone would act how I did when another person gets a girlfriend."
"Yeah, I suppose." Of course, he knew that; he wasn't a complete idiot. The question was whether she still fancied him or not. Had he screwed his chances at being with her? Had she realised he wasn't boyfriend material?
"But you haven't got to worry," she added, looking back at her hands. "I don't expect anything, Ron. It's okay if you don't return my feelings. You are not obligated to fancy me back. This is my fault. I was almost sure you liked me that — that way as well, but it's obvious I was mistaken. If you — or well, when you get another girlfriend, I promise I'll behave like a friend should and not like a jealous cow."
Ron stared at her, open-mouthed and trying to process what she was saying.
"Wait a moment," he said. "What are you talking about? Another girlfriend? Hermione, I already had a girlfriend and I broke up with her."
She looked at him. "I know, it was bad enough hearing her cry for days about it and glaring at me as if I was to blame."
At this, Ron felt guilty again. He really had fucked up, hadn't he?
"Why did you do that, by the way?" she asked him.
"She wasn't what I wanted in a relationship," he said vaguely.
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Someone pretty who can't keep her mouth off yours and that fawns over you continuously?" she replied, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Ron looked at his own lap. Seamus had asked him a similar question when he had found out, not understanding why any bloke would want to break with the 'girl with the biggest tits in school.' Well, yeah, Lavender's tits were fantastic, but, in the end, tits were not everything, right? Okay, they were pretty awesome, but, fuck, if it was for tits, Hermione's weren't bad at all, either. Not as large, but more than a handful. And, after all, if you keep wanking over another girl when you've got a girlfriend with the biggest tits in school, then something is wrong with that relationship, right? Not that he had explained that to Seamus, of course.
"Well, at first it was good, all the snogging and — and that. But, in the end, we had nothing in common, I didn't really fancy her and —" he blushed, "well, I missed you, and, as you were angry at me for going out with her, I reckoned that maybe, if I broke up with her, you would talk to me again. But I was wrong, wasn't I?" he finished, snorting. "Big surprise."
She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I'm sorry for that. I just —" She made a pause, as if trying to sort her thoughts, then resumed talking, "At first, I thought you had started going out with her because she threw herself at you and — well, she's very pretty, isn't she? And — and sexy. I'm not stupid, Ron, I see the way boys look at her. So, which guy wouldn't want her? And you — well, you've always had a thing for pretty girls, like Fleur. I suppose that's normal at our age, only I had convinced myself that we were getting somewhere, that what was developing between us had mor meaning than physical aspect. But all that was wishful thinking in my part, wasn't it?" she added, her tone sad. "I mean, why would you prefer me rather than her? Even without considering looks, she doesn't spend all day studying, she doesn't nag you or annoy you …"
"Hermione —"
"Let me finish, please," she begged, and he nodded. "I tried to convince myself that that was the kind of girl you liked; one that was nothing like me. I was angry at you for that, but also at me for lying to myself, for thinking I had a chance. I tried to tell myself it wasn't your fault if you liked girls like Lavender better, though that didn't help with how angry I was. I knew it was unfair, yet couldn't help it." She made a pause, shaking her head.
"But when you broke up with her after just three months, and I saw her crying, I — I just thought you were a bit or an asshole, to be honest. That it wasn't that you liked girls like Lavender: it was just that she was hot and you wanted to have fun and cared about nothing else. That there was no deep reason why you had got together with her." She sighed. "But now you tell me you broke up with her because you wanted to be friends with me and you had nothing in common with her, so it's obvious you care about more than looks and having fun. I'm so confused, Ron. Nothing makes sense."
Ron took a deep breath and then sighed, feeling like shit.
"Well, you're not entirely wrong about something, I definitely was an asshole. But I swear I didn't go out with her just to have fun with her. At first, I truly liked the way she acted towards me. You see, she never criticised me, she was enthusiastic about the things I did, she wanted to snog all the time instead of doing homework and such … She acted as if I she had won the first prize at something, you know? Just because she was with me. I know it's stupid, but it felt good to be wanted, to have someone that though I was amazing. And don't take this the wrong way, but yes, she was nothing like you and, in my idiocy, I thought that was good. At first it was, I won't lie, but as time passed, it wasn't. I know I'll never be the best student her, I'm hardly average, but I want a future. But I felt she didn't motivate me at all. She was happy just snogging, or —" or having sex, he added mentally. "But it became meaningless in the end. It's not that that wasn't good, but it became shallow. And I started missing you more and more. She could start kissing me and I would think how you'd tell me we had an essay due tomorrow. And I knew I wanted that back. I wanted you back." He looked at her intensely. "You don't annoy me, Hermione."
She furrowed her brows, confused. "Ron, I don't understand. You say that I don't annoy you, but you have just admitted one of the reasons you went out with her was because she was the opposite of me. And, as you say, there's the horrible way in which you treated me before the match against Slytherin. I spent hours and hours thinking about what I had done to deserve such contempt, but without an answer. I even thought you might have regretted saying you wanted to come to Slughorn's party with me, that maybe you had realised I wanted it to be a date and you didn't know a good way to tell me you didn't want that. I know it doesn't make much sense, that you wouldn't act like that if that were the case, but I couldn't think of another reason."
Ron felt his face burn with shame and lowered his head to avoid her gaze. "No, it wasn't because of that." He took a deep breath. "Hermione, I know I'm an idiot, and that most often than not I act without thinking, but I wouldn't treat you that way if I didn't like you. You've got it all wrong. It was because I liked you that I acted that way."
"What?"
"Look, I know you'll find this ridiculous, and you'd be right, because it is, and now I can see that as well, but when I found out …" he trailed off.
"When you found out about what?"
"When I found out you had snogged Krum."
"What!?" she replied, looking at him with wide eyes. "How — how did you —?"
"I had a stupid fight with Ginny," he said rather crestfallen, feeling more and more stupid by the minute. Looking back at it, it all seemed so ridiculous, so petty. "I saw her kissing Dean in a corridor, snapped at her and she told me that the only reason I was mad was because I was the only one who had never kissed anyone; that Harry had kissed Cho and you had snogged Krum …"
"Oh, my God! I told her that in confidence!" she exclaimed, horrified.
"Well, it was mostly my fault she blurted that out, I acted like the world's greatest prick. And she was right, after all," he added in a lower voice.
Hermione shook her head, clearly a bit put out that her secret had been revealed. Then let out a sigh. "So — you're telling me you felt less than Harry and me because you had never kissed anyone?"
Ron nodded slowly. "I know it sound stupid but —" He stopped talking, as he had no idea what to say, and took a moment to put his thoughts in order, feeling Hermione's gaze on him.
"You see," he said after a bit, looking back at her, "my sister was already with her second boyfriend, and I had never even given a girl a peck on the cheek. And you — you had always told us you and Krum were just friends, so it was a bit of a shock to find out you had, in fact, snogged him. I — I felt deceived and cheated. Besides, Slughorn kept inviting you and Harry to parties while totally ignoring me, I was doing horribly at Quidditch …" He shook his head, ashamed. "I know it doesn't justify it, Hermione, but I felt like a failure. I felt as if you and Harry were leaving me behind, especially you. I was happy we were going to go to the party, I hadn't dared hope you fancied me, you know, but I was determined to make you have a wonderful night, to show you I could be a good boyfriend. But afterwards, I could only think that I was being delusional. That you only had asked me out of pity because I was always complaining about not being invited; that someone so intelligent, so wonderful as you, destined to do incredible things, someone so hot and beautiful as you are could never settle for someone like me. I mean, Viktor Krum, an international Quidditch player, chose you among all the girls at Hogwarts, so why would you settle for me, just another Weasley?" He sighed. "That's why I treated you that way, not because I was angry at you — well, I was, probably more than a bit — but mainly, I was angry at myself. And so, when Lavender, who I knew fancied me, threw herself at me … Well, I thought, 'to hell with it. She's pretty and hot and a Gryffindor. She likes me and doesn't think I'm a failure, so go for it!' And that's how it started."
He dared to look at her, and found she was looking at him with eyes full of emotion. "Then of course we ran into you, and well, when I saw your face I realised that I had been wrong, that you did fancy me. I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, but despite everything I was still angry and part of me was glad that you were seeing me with another girl. I remember thinking, 'good, so she'll know not to take me for granted; that other girls, popular girls, think I am good!' If things had stayed like that, I might have realised I was being an idiot and could have broken up with Lavender soon, but then you attacked me with those canaries, and I got really furious at you and — well, you know the rest. But I want you to know I didn't go with Lavender because she was better than you in my eyes, Hermione. It was because I believed you were far above me. I still think that, to be honest."
He closed his mouth, waiting for a reaction, but she seemed to be a bit shocked, and it took her longer than a minute — which in his mind seemed to last days — to say something.
"I — Gods, I don't know what to say," she admitted.
"Then let me say I'm sorry for treating you that way. You did nothing wrong going — going out with Krum, though you could have told us. Finding out you had lied made me think that the thing between you had been quite serious."
Hermione took a deep breath. "This is a lot to take in," she commented.
"I know."
"Well, first of all, about Viktor —"
"Hermione, you don't owe me any explanations about that," he cut her in, though, if he was sincere, he did want to know … Did he? "If being with Lavender told me something, is that snogging someone does not mean you cannot like other people. You — you were single and had every right to go out with whomever you wanted."
"I know I haven't got to, but I want to tell you, Ron," she insisted. "You're right, I lied to you," she confessed, twirling her thumbs around each other. "It wasn't a big lie, mind you, because I wouldn't say we dated, at least not officially. Yes, he kissed me on a few occasions, and we definitely snogged a couple of times, but that was all. We never talked about being a couple or anything like that, and to be honest I never thought about him as my boyfriend." She swallowed audibly. "You see, people has mocked me, because of my hair and my teeth, all my life, Ron, so I was flattered when he asked me to the ball. And not because he was an international Quidditch player — Honestly, how many times have I told you I care very little about Quidditch?" she asked him, in that exasperated voice that was so her, and Ron couldn't help but smile a little. Fuck, he had missed that!
"Hundreds?" he offered sheepishly.
She nodded. "Yes, hundreds. But going back to the subject, I was flattered because he was older, he had half the girls at the school — at least — behind him, yet he chose me. And I wanted to go with you, Ron, but you made it quite clear your intention was to go with the prettiest girl available, and I certainly didn't qualify as that, not in my eyes. I was afraid I'd end up going alone, so, when he asked, I accepted. And I know you don't like him, but he really was kind, and very considerate. In fact, I was surprised to find out he was rather shy for such a famous person. And, as you said, I was single and didn't think you saw me as a possible girlfriend — maybe you never would — so I went along with it. I was afraid no one would want to go with me, to be honest, so I would have said yes to any decent boy who asked me. I would have said yes to Neville is Viktor hadn't asked me first." She gave him a little, nervous smile. "You see, I've got my own deep insecurities as well."
Ron couldn't understand how she couldn't see how pretty and hot she was, but, before he could say so, she spoke again, "Back to Viktor, I enjoyed our time together, though there wasn't much of that. But then, after the second task, I knew he was much more involved than me, so I stopped things from going further. Not that we had a talk or anything, but I just avoided situations that could lead to more kissing. I didn't want to lead him on."
"See?" he asked. "You are such a good person … I knew I was leading Lavender on, yet I didn't care."
"You didn't care at first, Ron, but you did in the end. And though she was hurt, you did the right thing breaking up with her."
"I suppose," he conceded. "By the way, I can't believe you don't realise how fucking pretty you are. And your hair — it's the most amazing hair in the world. Do you know how many times I had to stop myself from running my hands through it when you're close?"
She stared at him, mouth-hanging, a blush colouring her cheeks. "Really?" she asked after a bit, smiling at him. "You really think I'm pretty?"
He was about to say 'yeah, what nutter wouldn't?' but they were opening their hearts, right? So to hell with it.
"Hermione, to me you're the most beautiful girl in the world — And before you mention Fleur," he added quickly, "she's a Veela, and I'm a teenager boy, so she doesn't count."
She let out a laugh. "You could have left it at 'you're the most beautiful girl in the world,' you know," she said, though her blush had deepened and now she was beaming at him.
"Yeah, well, I'm known for putting my foot in my mouth, ain't I?"
"Yes, you are."
Silence fell over them, though this time was not awkward, but comfortable, like before. Maybe even better, because now there was some anticipation in the air, the feeling that, after so many misunderstandings and heartbreak, they were on the brink of something really good.
"I'm an idiot, ain't I?" he asked her.
"We're both idiots, Ron. And at least you never hurt me physically. I still can't believe I attacked you like that. The birds could have stung your e-eyeballs or — or —" she shook her head and lowered her face, but not before he could see the unshed tears in her eyes.
"Hey," he said softly, reaching with his hand to grasp hers. The touch sent a jolt up his arm and to his spine. Fuck, he had missed touching her. So bloody much.
She sniffed and used her free hand to brush her eyes. "I'm s-so s-sorry, Ron."
"I know. And I told you, I forgive you. As long as you forgive me for treating you like dirt and for flaunting my relationship with Lavender in front of your face."
"I do," she nodded. "Gosh, do you realise how stupid we are? We let our insecurities dictate our actions instead of talking like we're doing right now." She sighed, then looked straight into his eyes. "Look, I don't tell you this very often, but you must know you really are amazing."
"You think so?"
"Yes. And I'd better never hear you say you're 'just another Weasley' again," she added, scowling at him. "Your family is the best family in the world. And you — you make my life so worth living. You make me laugh, you challenge me, you make me have fun. You changed me, Ron. For the better. Harry and I are really fortunate to have you as our best friend."
Her words almost made him soar. Fuck, could he love her more?
"But I screw up a lot."
"I never said you were perfect. But that's good, because neither am I, right?" She took a deep breath. "You said you couldn't understand how I didn't see how pretty I am. Well, I can't get why you think so poorly of yourself. You're a good student. Not the best, certainly, but you are really smart, it's just that you are a bit lazy; when you apply yourself you do really good. You're a true master at chess. I mean, how many people could have won that game that protected the stone and kept Harry and I out of harm? And of course, you're a fantastic Quidditch player, but, even if you weren't, I wouldn't mind. You're funny, but not in the same way as Fred and George, they can be a bit too much sometimes. And you're incredibly brave. I'll never forget the way you stood up to Sirius when we thought he was a murderer. And — and well, I think you're really handsome as well," she finished, blushing a little.
Ron couldn't help but stare at her open-mouthed. "Really?"
"I do. As a prefect, though, you could improve a lot," she added, her tone teasing.
Ron laughed. "That's putting it mildly, I think."
"I promise to tell you more frequently how amazing you are, and that you haven't got to compare yourself to anybody. But that doesn't mean I'll act like Lavender, Ron. I won't dumb myself down to laugh at jokes even if I don't find them funny, neither will I become your shadow. I'm my own person, and that won't change."
"Good, because I wouldn't have you any other way," declared Ron, completely serious.
Hermione stared at him in such a way that caused his throat to become dry once more. A bit overwhelmed by how intense the situation was getting, he looked away, needing to keep his head clear. Fuck, they were finally having the conversation they should have had months, maybe a year ago, but he was aware they were in the hospital wing. They could get interrupted at any moment, and he didn't want that. He didn't want the comfortable situation they were in to turn awkward once more. And that made him realise it was strange Madam Pomfrey hadn't interrupted them yet. He looked back at Hermione and asked, "Where is Madam Pomfrey, by the way? It's odd she isn't fussing over me already."
"After watching you for a day and a half, I thought she needed some break, so I told her she could go and have dinner in the Great Hall, that I'd stay with you meanwhile."
Ron felt another surge or warmth in him at her words. "You didn't have to," he said. "When was the last time you ate?"
She tore her gaze away. "In the morning," she confessed in a low voice.
"Hermione …"
"I — I couldn't eat," she continued, still avoiding his eyes. "The only thing I could think about was that you could have died thinking I hated you … Or worse, that maybe you hated me."
"I could never hate you. Why did you think that? I mean, I know they were feeble attempts, but I tried to talk to you a few times since Christmas."
"Yes, and you only got insults and snarky remarks in return," she replied. "I'm so bloody stubborn!"
He gaped at her. "Hermione, you swore!"
She blushed a bit. "Well, when it comes to you, 'bloody' is hardly a swear word, isn't it? And after hearing you say it for six years I suppose it has rubbed off on me."
He chuckled. "Now you only have to say 'fuck' and I'll be completely happy," he added.
"I won't."
Well, maybe that was better. Even in his state, he might get hard if she said 'fuck,' and the last thing he needed was to scare her away by displaying a tent in the blankets covering him.
They had got off track, however, so he tried to steer the conversation back to what was between them. "By the way, I think I am as stubborn as you. Or even more."
"Yes, you are," she confirmed. "But I think that's a good thing."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "Really?"
She nodded. "It can be infuriating at times, I won't deny it, but you — you challenge me, Ron. I know I can be quite bossy, and self-righteous, and when I tell Harry something — or nag him, as you would put it — he either relents to what I say or just ignores me and does whatever he wants, like with that stupid book. But you don't do that. You argue with me. You force me to reconsider my arguments and my reasons, and that's good, because I tend to think I'm always right, and that's not true."
"Well, not always, of course, but most of the time you are. And I know I argue with you all the time, but sometimes it's not because I think you're not right, but because I'd rather ignore it, like when you tell me to stop wasting time and do my homework. It's easier to not feel bad about that when no one is reminding you of your duties. But I like when you do. As I said before, Lavender never did that, and though at first it was good, in the end I missed it. I give my best when you're pushing me, Hermione. You're right, I'm lazy, and you help me with that. You stir my conscience and that's good, because not only did you turn me into a better student, but a better person as well. I know I often argue with you about your plans with spew —"
"It's S.P.E.W"
"— but — Okay, okay, S.P.E.W," he amended himself. "As I was saying, I might not agree with all your plans, but you do have a point. And though I agreed with what Harry did with Dobby, I never really thought about the house elves in general. Okay, it's true I only had met a couple — besides Dobby — and they were treated well, but still. What I'm trying to say is that you're mostly right about them, and though you should approach the problem differently, you've got a point. They deserve more. And your concern is another example of how a good person you are, Hermione," he said sincerely. "Despite that violent streak you possess," he added as an afterthought, his tone teasing.
Hermione was staring at him, her expression full of disbelief.
"What?" he asked her.
"It's — it's the first time you say I'm mostly right about the house elves."
He felt his ears turn a bit pink. "Well, I told you I was stubborn, right?"
"That means so much for me, Ron," she told him. "And this serves as another example of what I was telling you: you challenge me. Everyone else I talk about this either agrees with me to get rid of me or simply thinks I'm crazy and ignores me. You make me rethink my plans and improve them, and that's amazing."
"I like arguing with you," he blurted out.
"What?"
"What you heard. I like arguing with you. Not when we truly fight, but when we argue, or bicker — I like that. Because when we do I feel you're completely focused on me. Not Harry, not the war, not homework or classes — just me."
She blinked a few times, apparently lost for words, then he saw a flush creeping up her cheeks. "I like arguing with you as well."
They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed an eternity, and then Ron said, simply, "We're idiots."
"We're idiots, yes," agreed Hermione.
"I'm sorry about the Yule Ball," he said. "I suppose I was too immature to realise I wanted to go with you. I was too worried about what other people thought of me, so I believed I had to go with a girl that was pretty. And you are pretty," he added quickly, before she started to doubt herself again, "but I didn't see it, because you were my best friend Hermione. Of course, I knew you were a girl, it's just I saw you as my friend that was a girl instead of a girl I could date, you know? But then, when I saw you at the ball, it was as if someone had dropped a bucket of cold water over me, because though you were you, you looked completely different. Not only were you someone I had loads of fun with, but you suddenly had also turned into the most beautiful girl in school. And well, I didn't deal very well with that discovery, didn't I? To be honest, I think I didn't want to admit to myself I might fancy you, because that could be awkward and I didn't know anything about dating and stuff. But I also knew I didn't like you with Krum, not at all." He made a pause. "I know I'm not making much sense …"
"No, you are," she told him. "I think I understand it, Ron."
Ron nodded, but stayed silent, not telling her that the next day had been the first time he had wanked thinking about her. In that fantasy she ditched Krum to go with him, and they danced and had fun before she pulled him into an empty classroom. Then, once they were alone, she snogged him passionately before lowering her robes and revealing those creamy tits …
He had come like never before, though he had felt quite ashamed afterwards. It felt a bit dirty, polishing your knob over your best friend. It had been like using her, or something like that. Those thoughts had prevented him from wanking himself stupid over her, though more often than not he would succumb to the temptation. Then, when he finally realised and admitted he truly fancied her, not doing it became impossible, and he hadn't stopped. Not even while he was with Lavender.
"Well that's — that's it," he said after a bit. "Please, say something."
"Oh, Ron …" she replied, which, to be honest, didn't help much.
"See? We're idiots," he repeated. "At least I am. And though I didn't get it then, now I understand why you got angry when you asked me if my plan was to go with the prettiest girl that would have me. Sorry for offending you."
"It's okay," she said. "I got angry because you didn't want what I wanted you to want, and that's unfair."
"You knew you wanted to go with me, then?"
She nodded. "I don't know when I realised I fancied you, to be honest. But when Professor McGonagall announced the ball, I knew I wanted to go with you, because I knew for sure no one could make me have more fun than you, Ron. I couldn't stop thinking about the first time we went to Hogsmeade, which, you must know, is still among the best five days of my life."
"Whoa …" he said, staring at her in awe, but then his curiosity peaked. "Wait — which are the other four?"
She stared at him for a moment, as if not understanding what he was asking, and Ron couldn't blame her. What kind of question was that in such a moment?
"Mmm, when Professor McGonagall came to give me my letter, when I became friends with Harry and you, when I went to your house for the first time and when I received my scores in first year."
Ron couldn't help but laugh. "If you hadn't mentioned exams or scores, I would have started to worry."
"Well, exams are important for our future, after all," she replied. "And, to me, getting good grades meant that I belonged here."
"Of course, you do. No one belongs here more than you, Hermione."
She smiled at him. "Thanks."
"I appear in three of your five favourite days," he commented.
She nodded. "I suppose you do."
Ron knew what he wanted to say. It was the only thing left to say, after this talk. Besides, anyone could appear and break the atmosphere between them, and he would curse himself if that happened. It was terrifying, though, despite what they had both admitted. If things went bad between them …
But now wasn't the time to think about that. He knew he wanted her, more than anything, and well, it wasn't as if they couldn't fuck things up while not dating, right? Being with her was worth the risk. Besides, she had taken the first step inviting him to the party, so it was his turn now. He had to show some initiative.
Determined, he took a deep breath, and, looking down at his lap, he blurted out, "So — do you still fancy me, despite the way I treated you and Lavender?"
"Do you still fancy me, despite the canaries and all the insults?"
He looked into her beautiful brown eyes, wanting her to see he was being completely sincere. "I do. More than ever, I think. I spent four months without you in my life, Hermione, and I don't want that again. Ever."
"I do fancy you too," she admitted. "Life without you is boring and rather dull, Ron."
"So ..."
"So …"
"I promise I can be a better boyfriend than I was to Lavender. I'll truly make an effort to make you happy — if — if you'll have me."
"Ron, you make me happy. Mad, too, but happy," she told him. "And I promise I'll try not to boss you around so much and that I'll be less critical — if you'll have me."
"I like you bossing me around," he confessed, his ears turning a bit pink, "though I might deny that in front of any other person."
Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, and then broke into laughter. "You're thinking about something dirty, aren't you?" she said, smiling, and Ron felt delighted that she wasn't disgusted by the idea of him having dirty thoughts about her. On the contrary, she seemed pleased. At once, an image of her in sexy lingerie ordering him to worship her body appeared in his mind, and for once he was glad he was still so weak, because normally such an image would have caused his dick to harden. In his current situation, however, it only twitched a bit.
"Er — no?" he offered lamely, and she laughed again. Ron watched her, a smile curving his lips. Fuck, he had missed her laugh. He had missed making her laugh. When she stopped, they looked at each other, smiling.
"So, this means you and me, that — that we …" he trailed off.
She blushed a bit. "I guess — if you want."
"I do!" he blurted out. "If you're sure, of course, I —"
"Oh, to hell with it!" she exclaimed, interrupting him, then practically jumped from her chair to the bed, put her arms around him — gently — and kissed him full on the mouth.
It was as if he had been struck by a lightning bolt. Every nerve of his body woke up and he threw his own arms around her body, pressing her against him as he responded enthusiastically.
How could just kissing Hermione cause such a strong reaction? Fuck, everything about her felt amazing: her incredible, soft lips moving against his, her body pressed against his own, her tits against his chest …
His cock twitched again and he did something he had wanted to do forever: he moved his right hand to the back of her head and buried his fingers into her amazing hair. Merlin, that was awesome, touching her hair while they snogged …
Holy fuck, he was snogging Hermione!
He had to repeat that a few times to convince himself it wasn't a dream, though the way his body was reacting made it pretty obvious. In none of his sexual dreams about her had his heart beat so fast, neither had his skin felt so sensitive. Shit, not even when having sex with Lavender, not matter the position, had he felt as alive or as on fire as now. How could he have lived without —
His train of thoughts was interrupted by her tongue pressing tentatively against his mouth, and Ron gave her access quickly, moving his own to meet it.
The moment they touched, his brain shut down completely. The only thing in the universe was Hermione, her scent, the amazing feel of her lips and hair and tongue and tits …
He wanted to snog her forever.
However, at certain point the need for air became too demanding, and she pulled away, causing Ron to whimper a bit in protest. Fuck, who wanted stupid air when snogging Hermione?
"Wow," she said, panting and staring deep into his eyes. Ron studied her face, taking in her flushed cheeks, her slightly swollen lips and, above all else, the sparkle in her pretty brown eyes.
"Wow indeed," he agreed, still caressing her hair. He tried to move, to kiss her again, but a sharp pain in his lower back made him wince. "Shit!"
Hermione's dazed expression turned into one of worry. "Ron, are you all right? Did I hurt you! Merlin, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have pounced on you like that, you're still weak and sore and —"
"Hermione, Hermione, I'm okay," he managed to say, cutting her rant. "You didn't hurt me. In fact, I think that snogging you was better than any pain potion I have ever taken."
"Really?" she asked, still unsure.
"Really. It was the most amazing kiss of my life."
She beamed at him, clearly relieved. "Good, I was a bit nervous. I mean, I know I haven't got much experience —"
"I don't care about that," he assured. "Don't you get it? You could be the worst kisser in the world — which you aren't! — and it would still be amazing, just because I'm kissing you."
She hugged him — very carefully — hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Ron couldn't help but take advantage and buried his face in her curls, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. Fuck, she smelt like heaven.
"Just to be sure," he said when they pulled apart, "we're dating, right? I mean, you're my girlfriend."
"I'm your girlfriend," she confirmed, sitting on the border of the bed, her left leg bent and resting on top of the mattress. "And you are my boyfriend."
Bloody hell, hearing those words coming from her lips was a fucking dream come true. He was going to have to write 'Hermione is my girlfriend' in a piece of parchment, because, come morning, he was going to think it all had been a dream.
Exhilarated, he couldn't help it and let out a yell of triumph. Hermione admonished him for shouting in the hospital wing, though she was smiling instead of scowling. Ron, still grinning like the Cheshire cat, grabbed her hand in his and took it to his mouth to kiss her palm.
"Can we kiss again?" he asked, lowering their entwined hands to his lap. "Just so I know I'm not dreaming."
She laughed once more, shaking her head. "That's the best you can come with?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged. "Would you rather I said, 'can we kiss again 'cause if feels fucking amazing?'"
She rolled her eyes, utterly amused. "Don't swear when talking about kissing me."
"That's impossible, Hermione," he replied, and pulled on her hand to bring her back towards him.
"Prat," she said, but then leaned in to kiss him again. He put his arms around her slim waist, his hands moving over her back. As she leaned more against him, he considered sliding them over her bum, but discarded the idea. It was too soon for that, so he just concentrated in kissing her, in learning everything about her lips. They kissed slowly this time, at least at first. Then, feeling their passion grow, Ron pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she welcomed it with hers. Both started a duel that sent jolts of pleasure straight to his cock and caused her to emit the faintest, yet most amazing moans of delight.
They kissed and kissed, thirsty for each other after wanting this for so long. They kissed until their lips were swollen and small pauses to get air were no longer enough. Feeling rather worn out despite the excitement coursing his body, Ron let out a happy sigh and sagged against the pillows. Hermione pecked his lips and then went back to the chair she had been sitting on.
"No, come back, I like you here," he pouted.
"Aren't you tired?"
He nodded. "A bit. But I swear it's the poison. Once I've recovered, I promise you I'll snog you for hours."
She chuckled. "And who says I want to snog for hours? I expect much more from my boyfriend than snogging, you know," she said, and though her tone was joking, he could tell she was a bit worried about that. Understandable, giving how his relationship with Lavender had been purely physical.
"I do, too. It won't be like with Lavender, I promise. Fuck, I don't know what I was thinking …" he said, shaking his head. "Snogging and all that is good, but I truly love just talking to you, Hermione."
"Good," she said, clearly relieved. They fell silent again, and Ron could tell she was thinking about something.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing," she lied.
"Hermione, we have just concluded how much we fu— I mean, how much we screwed up in the past for lying or hiding things. If there's something you want to ask, ask it."
"It's just — I have no right to ask you that," she said, looking down, and Ron knew, with almost complete certainty, what it was.
"If I'm not ready to answer it, I'll tell you. But never be afraid to ask me anything."
She nodded and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself. Then she stared into his eyes. "You see, Lavender said you two — well, that you had … sex," she finished in a really low voice. "Is — is it true?" she managed to say. Then, before he could answer, she added, "You haven't got to answer, it's not my business what —"
"It's true," he admitted. "But we stopped shortly after Christmas," he added, as if that excused him in some way. "Look, I won't lie and say I regret it, because that wouldn't be true, but it was sort of wrong. And when I decided I was going to break up with her, I couldn't keep doing it. I might be a prick, but I'm not a complete asshole."
She nodded.
"I'm sorry," he added.
"It's okay," she assured, though it was obvious she was sad about it. "Okay, it would have been lovely if we — well, if we learned together," she said, blushing again, "but it doesn't really matter."
Ron gaped at her. "You — you want to — to —" he stammered, unable even to say the word.
Sex with Hermione. Holy fuck.
"Not yet," she responded quickly. "We've just started dating, so I don't feel ready for that. But of course, I want to make love with you, eventually. If — if you also want that."
"Are you mad?" he asked her. "Hermione, I don't want to scare you, but you're the star of my fantasies."
She stared at him, surprised. "Really?"
"Why are you so shocked?"
"I don't know — I just never saw myself as desirable or — or sexy …"
"You're barmy," he replied, shaking his head. "Completely barmy. Didn't I told you you are hot and the most beautiful girl in school?"
She gave him a sheepish grin. "You did."
"Well, I meant it," she assured. "So, I get this means you — you've never done it?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I told you, what I had with Viktor were only kisses and a couple of snogs — though nothing near what we did before."
"And McLaggen?"
She scoffed. "Please. Going to the party with him must be the most stupid thing I've ever done, and by a considerable margin. Having to put up with him just to annoy you …" She shook her head.
"Well, it worked. It annoyed me, even though I had no right to be annoyed."
"But it was McLaggen! He was infuriating and idiotic, talking about himself all the time. I'm surprised he didn't ask for a time-turner so he couldgo with himself. And then, suddenly, we were under the mistletoe and he shoves his tongue into my mouth, moving his hand to grab my bum. I pushed him away immediately and spent the rest of the night hiding from him." She shook her head once more, angry at herself. "Serves me right."
Ron was fuming. "He touched you without your permission!?" he exclaimed, incensed. Fuck, if he were able to get to his feet, he would go after the fucking prick and beat him up, troll size or not.
"Only for a moment, but —"
"Don't act as if it was nothing," Ron demanded, furious. "You don't touch people without them wanting to. Why didn't you hex him? A nice curse, like the one you put on that sneak Marietta — maybe saying 'asshole' or something like that — would have taught him a lesson!"
"I know it's bad," she said. "But, as I told you, I pushed him away and then left him. I just thought hexing him in the middle of Professor Slughorn Christmas party wasn't a good idea."
"Bollocks, it would have been awesome," replied Ron sullenly.
"All right then, if he ever gets near me again, I'll curse him. Happy?"
"Yeah."
Hermione was about to say something else when they heard the door of the hospital wing open. They looked that way and saw Harry walking towards them. The moment he caught sight of Ron, his face lit up. "Hey, you're awake!" he exclaimed happily, hurrying towards them.
"Yeah."
"And you're still here," he added, now looking at Hermione, his tone cautious. His gaze shifted between Ron and Hermione a few times, clearly trying to get an idea of how things were between them. "So — did you make up?" he asked tentatively. "You're not going to curse one another, right?"
Ron and Hermione shared a quick look, and then broke into laughter, to Harry's utter confusion.
"Yeah, Mate, we made up. Everything's fine."
"More than fine," added Hermione, throwing a mischievous glance at Ron. "Everything's perfect."
Well, I hope you enjoyed it! Expect the next chapter of DO on Friday or Saturday!