III.

In Your Arms Again

Ron was crossing from the family room to the stairwell when he saw the front door start to open.

Frowning, he paused.  The rest of his family was either gathered in the kitchen or not due back for hours.  Who else was expected?

Moments later, a familiar head of thick, red-brown hair appeared, and Hermione stepped over the threshold, tugging at her scarf.  Ron froze, suddenly unable to move or speak.  He could only stare as she freed the awkwardly wound length of knitted wool from around her neck, and began to shrug off her heavy coat.

She had changed, he realised with a shock.  In a hundred tiny ways, she had changed.  Her hair was darker and much longer.  She was taller.  Her face had altered, lost the last hints of childishness. 

And yet… she was still the same Hermione.  Still his Hermione…

He shouldn't have gotten into the habit of thinking of her that way.  They had never spoken of love before he left, though sometimes it felt as though the words had always been there, hovering in the air between them, but never voiced aloud.  Then Voldemort had come, and Harry had been Cursed, and everything had gone wrong… 

He had no right to hope that she might still have feelings for him.  Especially not now, after leaving her alone without so much as an explanation for so long.

But if his two years away had taught him nothing else, they had taught him that his feelings for this girl in front of him were never going to change.  Near or far, richer or poorer, now… and always.

God, but it was heaven and hell to be close to her once more…

At that moment she looked up and saw him standing there in the narrow hallway, just staring in idiotic silence.  Her mouth fell open and her shocked gaze locked with his.

Ron's throat seized up.  He cast about desperately for something to say, but his mind was a blank.  Damn it, he had known it would be hard to face her again, but nothing had prepared him for this.  Obviously he had forgotten the effect she had on him, just by being near.

In the end, Hermione was the first to speak. 

"Ron!" she said, her voice strangely soft and breathless, as if she weren't quite sure she believed what her eyes were telling her.

Ron forced himself to swallow.  "Hey Mione," he managed, his voice just as soft as hers had been.

Silence resumed and neither of them moved.

Then all of a sudden, Hermione made a small sound in the back of her throat – somewhere between a laugh and a sob – and ran into his arms.

Shocked, Ron caught her in a firm embrace.  Hermione's face was pressed against his shoulder and her arms were linked tightly around his neck, and she trembled very slightly, as though she were trying to hold in some overwhelming emotion. 

Ron's expression was one of disbelieving joy as he reached up to stroke her hair.  It felt fantastic against his fingers, exactly the way he had always imagined it.  It was like coming home.

"You … aren't angry...?"  It was half a question, half an exclamation of wonder.

She leaned back in his arms to look up into his face.  Moisture had dampened her eyelashes, but no tears spilled over. 

"I thought I would be," she said softly, her voice thick, "I know I should be.  But Ron, I just can't -  You don't know how I - "

He didn't let her finish.  His lips descended onto hers with a fierce tenderness that stole every ounce of strength in her body, and she melted against him, kissing him back for all she was worth.

"God, Mione – I've missed you so much," he broke the kiss, but didn't relax his embrace.  "I'm so sorry I left like I did.  And without ever telling you…"

He hesitated. 

Still dazed from his kiss, she blinked in confusion.  "Tell - telling me what?"

He took a deep breath.  The words had been spoken in his heart a thousand times.  They were long overdue.  Why was it suddenly so difficult to say them aloud? 

"That I love you," he managed at last, "Have always loved you.  Want to marry you."

There.  Now she knew.  Perhaps she had always known – she was pretty smart, after all.  But he had said the words aloud at last.

There was a pause.

"Marry!" Hermione's voice was soft and breathless, "I -  No.  I'm pretty certain you never did mention anything like that..."  She managed a very small, faint smile, and added, "It's the kind of thing I'd remember." 

 "Well, now you know," Ron wanted to smile, but this was too serious.  She couldn't be allowed to think he was joking when he had never been more sincere in his life.

He hadn't actually meant to tell her this way, but she'd been forced to spend two years doubting his feeling for her.  He suddenly felt he owed it to her to be honest now.

"I love you, Hermione Granger," he said, speaking clearly and softly, staring straight into her eyes, "There's nothing I want more in the world than to be married to you."

Hermione shook her head in shock.  "Ron, who … how …  Married…?  I can't … I don't know what to say to you…"

Now he smiled very slightly, and reached up to put a finger to her lips, silencing her. 

"Then don't say anything at all," he said softly, "I know this is sudden for you.  That's fine.  I hadn't meant to say anything yet, but ...  Well, there you have it.  I know how I feel, and my feelings aren't going to change.  I… I don't mind giving you time to figure out yours."

Hermione blinked.

When Ron had left, he had been a boy.  Just the mention of words like 'love' and 'feelings' had caused him to screw up his face or blush and stutter.  But the sombre-eyed man talking to her now, speaking earnestly of marriage and commitment only moments after their reunion, was almost a stranger to her.

She looked more closely at his face, and reached up to gently trace the faint lines of weariness and strain she saw there. 

"Ron, you've changed so much…" She whispered, her heart torn between sadness at the innocence he had lost and admiration for the strength she sensed in this man who so resembled boy she had loved.  

She laid her palm flat against his cheek, and was shocked to feel the roughness of stubble.  So much time had been lost…  She raised her gaze, and looked searchingly into his eyes. 

"Where have you been?"

He sighed, and slid his hands down her arms to take her hands in his own.

"You know, it really is time I answered that question.  Come with me into the family room.  I'll tell you when everyone's together…  I really don't want to have tell this story more than once."