Chapter Twenty One
Hermione collapsed. Her knees actually buckled, and she would have fallen, but Ron caught her and held her up. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tightly as she fought to retain her breath.
"No," she whispered hysterically. "It's not true, it can't possibly be true…" Ron stroked her hair and whispered soothingly in her ear. He eased her back into her chair and squatted in front of her, holding both her hands between his.
"It's not true," she whispered firmly, after a long pause.
"It is," he replied.
"Then they lied to you." She raised her head to look at him, but he shook his head.
"I believe them. You've never felt the curse, Hermione. I can feel it killing me." He pushed a couple of strands of hair out of her face and sighed. "I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you this," he whispered.
Hermione took a few deep breaths. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. "Why are you here?" she asked, and he leaned forward to hear her. "Why did you come back?"
Ron closed his eyes. "I promised you I'd come back. So I came back." He sighed again. "This- this is private Ministry information, Hermione. You have to realize that. You can't tell anyone what I just told you. They told me I was allowed to see one person before I died. I would have gone to see my mum or dad, but I promised you. They can hear it from the Ministry." His voice broke suddenly, and he looked down. "Try to understand, Hermione, please."
"Understand what?" she asked harshly. "What's there to understand? Harry's gone, Ginny's gone. You're going to be gone. My whole damned life is falling apart!"
Ron's features sharpened suddenly. "And what of me?" he demanded, angry. "You're only losing three people. I'm losing everything. Don't you get it? Everything and everyone that I love, I have to leave behind. I'll have nothing!" He choked. "Understand, dammit!"
He stood up and turned away, walking over to the window, not saying anything. Hermione sat in her chair, hiccuping, trying to stop the tears. She finally got to her feet and stood beside Ron at the window. The wind pounded at the glass, spraying snow in every which direction, sparkling in the distant light of the fire.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ron asked quietly. He reached out and traced a line under her eye, over her ear and down the back of her neck with one finger. He turned to face her, and she shivered.
"Hermione," Ron whispered. "You know I love you. I've told you, I've shown you and you've felt it. You know." He was talking so quietly that he may as well have just mouthed the words, yet she could hear him perfectly. His eyes bore hole through her and into her skull, but she didn't look away.
"You know dark magic," Ron said. "It's fed by hate, fear and anger. But nothing fuels it more than the anger of loving someone, and knowing that they don't love you back."
Hermione gaped at him. "But-"
He cut her off. "You never said anything to make me believed you loved me, Hermione" he whispered. "All the time I've known you, you've never told me you loved me."
She tried to speak, but found that she couldn't get the words out. Love you? Ron, you have no idea how much I love you, how much I need you…
"Ron," She finally choked out. "Of- of course I do. What ever made you think I didn't?"
"Say it," Ron whispered fiercely.
"Ron, I-"
"Say it!" he hissed at her.
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, opening them again quickly. "I-" she whispered. "I love you, Ron."
Do you still remember
How we used to be?
Feeling together, believing whatever
My love has said to me
He choked and let go of her, and she could see him struggling to keep control of himself. "Ron," she whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.
Ron looked back up at her, and his hands went to her face. Hermione closed her eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers. Moving one hand down to circle her waist. "I almost wish you hadn't said that," he whispered huskily, kissing her forehead. "Before, I thought at least I didn't have much to leave behind." He kissed her temple and her cheek. Oh, how it felt good to have his lips on her skin again. "Now I know that I'm leaving you here and- oh, God, Hermione…" He kissed her nose and her eyelid, and trailed down until he was a centimeter away from her mouth. She could feel his breath on her face, and he hovered there for a moment, his breath ragged in anticipation.
Both of us were dreamers
Young love in the sun
Felt like my savior, my spirit I gave ya
We'd only just begun
She ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, and he pulled her closer.
"Hermione," Ron whispered huskily. His hand stroked her cheek, and ran over her ear to the back of her neck. "I love you so much."
She could feel the tears coming, trickling out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Ron kissed her tears, then her forehead, leaving the salty liquid between her eyebrows. "Don't cry, Hermione, please," he whispered in her ear. "I don't want this to be my last image of you." He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.
"How long are you here?" Hermione whispered into the fabric of his shirt. It was rough against her face, but strangely comforting.
"It's ten now," he replied quietly. "They'll be back to get me at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Twelve hours," she whispered. Yesterday, twelve hours would have been forever. But now it wasn't nearly enough. Only twelve hours more with Ron, and then she would never see him again.
Hasta Manana
Always be mine
Ron opened his eyes and looked at her, and she stared right back. He seemed to swim there in her eyes for a moment. Then he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, bent down, and kissed her mouth.
Viva forever, I'll be waiting
Everlasting, like the sun.
Live forever, for the moment.
Ever searching, for the one…
It was a gentle kiss at first. Soft, loving, and almost hesitant. But then, the months of fear, worry and desperation kicked in, and the kiss intensified. Hermione trembled as Ron's tongue teased hers, and she savored the taste of him, trying to seal it into her brain. He tightened his arms around her waist, and bent more to get closer to her. And she surrendered.
Yes, I still remember
Every whispered word
The touch of your skin giving life from within
Like a love song that I heard
Kissing Ron, holding him, even just being near him, had always felt unfathomably perfect. As though nothing on the world could possibly make her feel more loved, more cherished. Like she belonged there. She was used to that, to the point where she expected it.
Now, though, as she kissed him, standing on tiptoe to get as close to Ron as possible, Hermione realized that it didn't feel perfect anymore. Something was missing, something wasn't being fulfilled. Ron tightened his hold on her, apparently feeling it, too. His fingers pried the elastic out of her hair, and it cascaded down her back like a waterfall. She pressed up against him as his fingers ran through her hair.
He pulled away for a moment and kissed her ear. "Hermione," he whispered her name like a prayer, putting all his soul into that one word. She pulled him back to her lips, and he kissed her passionately. She could feel his love and hunger for her, matching her own feelings for him.
Slipping through our fingers
Like the sands of time
Promises made, every memory saved as
Reflections in my mind
Twelve hours. Twelve hours was all she had to memorize him, to absorb his every aspect. The panic that filled her was like that that you feel when you realize you haven't studied for the final exam, and the test is in two hours. His hands drew weird patterns up and down her back, and he pulled her even closer. But she could tell that it still wasn't right. Then she felt a surge of passion- from Ron or herself, she wasn't certain- and lost control.
Hasta Manana
Always be mine
She felt her fist tighten around a handful of Ron's tee shirt, and without any furthur thought, she pulled it over his head. Ron broke the kiss just long enough to let the shirt pass, then pulled her back. She ran her hands up his bare chest and around his neck as he unbuttoned her sweater. It slipped off her shoulders, unnoticed, leaving her in the camisole shirt she had changed into after dinner.
Viva forever, I'll be waiting
Everlasting, like the sun.
Live forever, for the moment.
Ever searching, for the one…
They stumbled backwards, and she felt her legs collide with the edge of the bed. Ron eased her gently onto her back, and carried himself down over her, still kissing her with indescribable passion. Hermione pulled him down on top of her, her hands sliding through his fiery hair in a vain attempt to memorize it.
Ron wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing her back onto the pillows. He caressed her back feverishly, pulling the fabric along with his fingers, stretching it into odd shapes. He paused once, with his hands resting on the hem- waiting, asking- then slid his hands up the back of her shirt. He breath shortened at his touch, and she sat up slightly, resting her weight on one elbow.
Ron started to move his hands around to the front of her torso, then stopped. He pulled away from her mouth and rolled of her. "No," he whispered. "We can't."
Hermione just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the fire drain from her body like pop from a spilled can. She rolled over into Ron's side, feeling the tears well up again and spill from her eyes, trickling down his shoulder. He turned his head and looked at her, brushing her tears away with a finger.
"Why not?" she demanded finally. "Ron, I'm never going to see you again." The words tasted foul and bitter in her mouth. She wanted to spit.
"Hermione," Ron whispered pleadingly. "We- we're too young for this to be happening to us. But it is. But that doesn't mean we can just go and do whatever- oh, Lord, Hermione. Please."
He leaned over into her and kissed her again, pulled her onto his chest. He ran his hands through her hair- so neat a few minutes ago but a tangled mess, now. But he pushed her away again. "No," he whispered fiercely, more to himself than to her.
"Ron," she whispered, so quiet she could barely hear herself. "Ron, please."
He pushed her gently on to her back and lay on his side, looking at her. "No," he whispered. "There's too much that could go wrong. It doesn't feel right, Hermione. I'm going to be dead tomorrow, but this could affect the rest of your life. You could get pregnant, or- or- just try to see it from my point of view."
She sighed. "You're right," she whispered, feeling even more tears on the way. He pulled her onto his chest, and wound his arms around her waist, holding her tightly. She lay across him, feeling the shuddering breaths rippling through his body.
"You know what today is?" Ron asked as he stroked her back.
"What?" she asked.
"December fifteenth," he replied. "It was exactly two years ago today when I kissed you for the first time." He reached down and grabbed the covers, pulling them up over the two of them.
Hermione smiled in spite of herself, remembering how happy she had been on that day. "It seems like so long ago," she whispered. "Like decades."
Ron smiled into her hair. "I can remember," he said. "Sometimes feeling like my life was like a little rowboat stuck out in the middle of the ocean, drifting all over the place. When I kissed you, it was like one little piece of the puzzle fell into place. Like I was destined to have done it all along, and it just clicked." He stroked her hair and tightened his arms around her. "That was a long time ago."
But we're all alone, now
Was it just a dream?
Feelings unfold, they will never be sold
And the secret safe with me…
Hermione closed her eyes and willed the tears to save themselves for later. "I love you, Ron," she whispered.
"I know," he replied quietly. "To be honest, I think I always did."
She buried her face in his shoulder, overwhelmed. She knew Ron was right about not sleeping with her. There were so many things that could go wrong. She was smart, she always knew what the right answer was.
Just this once, though, she wished she could have been wrong.
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