Prompt:
So...you're gonna do a follow up where he does tell her right? Pretty please? 😁💜

Era: Post-War, while H is at Hogwarts
Rating: M-ish (to be safe)

Take My Advice: Part 2

Ron tells Hermione how he feels.

Ron was deep into an afternoon nap when Pigwidgeon tapped his beak on his bedroom window, jolting him awake. Tied to his ankle was a letter, which sent Ron's heart racing. He had just owled Professor McGonagall to ask her for a special favor. Hermione's birthday was next week, and he wanted to surprise her with a visit. Former students weren't typically allowed on the Hogwarts grounds, but Ron figured she might be willing to make an exception on the Head Girl's birthday.

Ron groggily made his way over to the window, letting Pigwidgeon in, who promptly landed on the windowsill and held up his leg. Ron untied the letter and Pigwidgeon collapsed into a sleepy pile on his desk.

He tore open the letter to reveal McGonagall's elegant handwriting.

Mr. Weasley,

I understand that you would like to visit Miss Granger on the evening of September 19th. I hope you understand that I don't typically allow former students to visit the grounds, for any reason.

Ron's heart sank. But he kept reading.

However, given that you have proven yourself responsible and Miss Granger is in desperate need of an evening off, I will grant your permission this one time. My floo will open at three o'clock in the afternoon on September 19th. Please arrive promptly. Assuming you don't wish to return until the 20th, plan accordingly for an overnight.

Regards,

Professor McGonagall

Ron stared wide-eyed at the letter, as a grin started to form on his face. This was more than he had asked for.

September 19th

Hermione collapsed onto her bed in the Head Girls' quarters after a long day of studying for her NEWTS. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon, and she was already exhausted. She didn't have the same distractions that she was used to at Hogwarts, so she spent all of her time revising. She had assumed that her time at Hogwarts without Ron and Harry would be more productive, but she was finding the opposite to be true. She couldn't focus when she missed them so much, and she wished for their distraction more than anything.

She buried her face into her pillow as hot tears began to sting her eyes. Everyday, she willed herself not to think of Ron, but everytime she came back to her room alone, she couldn't help but miss him even more. It seemed that her loneliness became stronger each day, and it had only been three weeks since she last saw him. She wondered if it felt the same for him.

They left each other at the train station on September 1st after a thoroughly non-verbal goodbye. She blushed when she remembered him kissing her passionately on platform 9 ¾ without a care in the world to those around them. She smiled at the memory of Harry protesting their public display of affection, lovingly of course. "Oi, there's a train about to leave here!" As much as she enjoyed the time they spent not talking, there was just one thing she regretted not telling him.

Ron deserved to know how she felt, but how could she tell him now? It's not something that you could say in a letter for the first time. If only there was a way to see him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. Confused, Hermione wiped her eyes and stood up from her place on the bed. She knew the castle's security was foolproof, but just in case grabbed her wand before opening the door.

Her jaw dropped when Ron's face appeared on the other side, grinning his lopsided smile.

"Hi," he said excitedly.

Hermione was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

"Happy Birthday!" he continued, opening his arms for a hug.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion, and held her wand up to his chin. Paranoia from the war was still persisting, and it was better to be safe than sorry. "What did you say to make me kiss you for the first time?"

Ron smiled. "Some rubbish about saving house elves."

It was an annoying answer, but that simply meant it truly was him. Hermione beamed and collapsed into his arms. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too," he said as he kissed her forehead.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get here?"

Ron pulled away from the hug and followed her lead further into her bedroom. He went immediately toward the bed and collapsed onto it. "I'm here for your birthday! McGonagall said I could come. Arrived in her fireplace just a few minutes ago."

She fell onto the place next to him on the bed, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She felt her eyes sting with tears again, but this time they were happy ones. "So she knows you're here?"

Ron nodded, before pulling her face toward his for a kiss. She responded enthusiastically, reaching her hands into his hair and gently parting her lips for him. They stayed there, kissing tenderly and enjoying the familiarity of each other for a few moments before Hermione pulled away.

"How long do you have?"

"All night," he said with a grin.

"All night," she repeated with wide eyes. "McGonagall said you could stay here?"

Ron nodded. "Well, she didn't explicitly say it, but she didn't insist otherwise…," he said before pulling her back in for another kiss. This time, he slipped his hands underneath her skirt and gripped her thighs, guiding one of her legs across his hips so she straddled him. She reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He responded enthusiastically, and began to work the rest of her clothing off while she undid his trousers. She had so much she wanted to say to him, but it could wait for now.

Later that evening…

Ron and Hermione were lying in her bed in the Head Girl's quarters. She was curled up against him, starkers, just how he liked it. He smiled down at her as he tangled his fingers into her hair. "I missed this."

She raised her eyebrows. "My crazy hair?"

"Well, more specifically, lying naked in bed with you. But now that you mention it, yeah," he replied, twirling her curls around his fingers. "I missed your hair."

"I hate my hair," she said with a frown. "Too wild."

He smiled. "That's why I love it."

"You love my hair?"

Ron nodded. "Mmmhmm. I do," he mumbled.

She rolled her eyes before resting her head back on his chest. He continued to play with her hair, enjoying the challenge of trying to tame each strand, knowing he never would. He couldn't help but draw a connection between her hair and her wild and somewhat unpredictable personality, which he also loved.

"I love it because it's wild. It can't be contained."

Hermione turned her face up to his and smiled.

"It has so much personality. It does what it wants," he continued.

She laughed softly and buried her face back into his chest.

Ron was blushing now. "You keep trying to fight it, but there's no point. In the end it's going to win."

He felt her arms tighten around him, and his face heated up more. It was time to do what he came here to do.

"The more you try to keep it in line, the bigger it gets. It's got a rebellious side. You might as well just accept it and learn to love it like I do."

Hermione looked up at him curiously. "Are you still talking about my hair?"

Ron grinned at her. "Well, all of that applies to your hair, don't get me wrong. And I do love your hair…," he felt his stomach tighten in nerves. What if she didn't say it back? "But I'm mostly talking about you."

Hermione's eyes began to water with tears, and Ron reached toward her face to wipe one way. "You-," she started, but was interrupted.

"I love you, Hermione. 'Bout time you knew that."

She beamed, and another tear fell down her face. "I love you too," she said before pulling Ron's lips back down to hers.

He smiled through the kiss, blushing harder than ever. His brothers were right, she loved him too. How lucky he was, he thought, before shifting position so he was on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips to pull him close to her, and he felt himself grow harder as she pressed against him. Based on the enthusiasm of her response, she didn't mind at all.

Ron was overwhelmed with gratitude. The girl of his dreams loved him back, and he had the whole night to celebrate that fact. "Happy Birthday, Love," he whispered in her ear.

"Best birthday present, ever," she replied, before pulling him back to her for a thoroughly non-verbal celebration.