AN ~ Ron and 'Mione are older in this fic. enjoy ;-)
3 AM
-dutchtulips-
The choice of place twenty-year-old Ron Weasley had come home to was usually always empty. After all, he was barely home - being one of the Ministry's top Aurors kept him away from home weeks, even months at a time. And as exhilarating as his career could be, Ron was often quiet glad when his missions were over and he could go back home to his London flat and relax for a week or two until he was called in again.
And it was a particularly rainy Thursday night that the Ministry had granted him leave once more and he could go to his apartment and enjoy a nice long sleep. That was, in fact, precisely what was on Ron's mind as he took out his wand to unlock the front door, and then pushed his trunk inside and left it there, not even bothering tonight to unpack it. Instead, he waved his wand at the living room light, which promptly winked on, and then went off towards the kitchenette for some butterbeer.
Ron had just popped the top on the bottle and taken a long drink when he noticed a small red light blinking on one of the only electrical things he owned, which was a telephone. Not that he ever used it - in fact, it had been Hermione who had insisted on it, for a quicker way to keep in touch. He had told her that he didn't want the bloody thing, thank you, but her role as his fiancée often allowed her to have her way.
He awkwardly pressed a button on it, which revealed that it was indeed Hermione herself who had called. No doubt she had received his owl, saying that he was coming home again for a little while, and she tried phoning his place to see if he'd arrived yet. Dropping down at the kitchen table, Ron wearily rubbed his forehead with his hand.
Why do you make me use that blasted fellytone, 'Mione? He thought to himself, debating whether or not to get back to her tonight. I don't like all of that Muggle stuff, plus I'm almost never here when you - the only person who does - calls me. And the weather's too bad to send an owl right now; can't I just talk to you tomorrow after I've freshened up?
Ron laughed to himself as he got back up and put a saucepan on the stovetop to quickly cook a small supper for himself before turning in. "She does fuss over me a lot, always telling me I should put on my cloak on my long missions before I catch cold, writes 'Take care of yourself!' at the end of every letter. . ." he paused for a moment, "but I'd have to be crazy to get annoyed at the best thing that ever happened to me for that."
She says it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat
She's always worried about things like that
She says it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault
And she only sleeps when it's raining
And she screams, and her voice is straining
Either the beef casserole at supper had settled, or Ron had other things on his mind, because he sure was having trouble sleeping that night. Outside the thunder, lightning, and rain were growing more fierce, and inside, Ron was tossing and turning on his bed. As he glanced up at the clock on the wall, he could make out that it was much past midnight.
Wonderful. Fan-bloody-tastic. I come home from the Ministry looking forward to a long night's sleep and now I've got insomnia. Isn't this fab, Ron thought bitterly. He listened to the raindrops pelting against the window for a time, and to his amazement it practically sounded like a lullaby, lulling him off to sleep. His tense nerves began to relax and his eyelids started droop shut. . .
. . .and then a shrill, high-pitched bell sounded from somewhere, causing Ron to bolt upright in bed, his nerves completely off it again. "What the bloody hell could that be?" He murmured wearily.
When the strange ring went off again, the redhead suddenly remembered, and rolled his eyes. He reached over to the bedside table and plucked up the receiver to the - only other one he had, andwould ever have - telephone laying there. "Hello?" He mumbled sleepily.
"Ron!"
Quite suddenly, he was fully awake and intuned to the person on the other line. " 'Mione?"
"Yes, it's me."
"What are you doing up? It's late!" He exclaimed wondrously.
"Couldn't sleep." Pause. "Why hadn't you called me?"
Ron sat up a bit more, letting himself relax as he talked to Hermione. "Aw, 'Mione, you know how much I don't like having these Muggle things around. I rarely use the fellytone as it is. . ."
" - Telephone, dear heart," Hermione said, her voice smiling. "But you still should have. I've been up half the night already worrying about you! What if you hadn't made it home? What if you got stranded somewhere?"
She says baby
It's 3 am, I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well, I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain's gonna wash away, I believe it
"Oh, 'Mione, you know that wouldn't've happened. The Ministry always sees to it I get home all right." Ron smiled into the phone.
"But what if you hadn't?" She reiterated. "You never know, Ron, what could happen."
"Sometimes I think you worry a bit much, 'Mione."
"I'm entitled to," Hermione replied. "You're going to be husband in another month, so I have sole rights to worry about where you are and what you're doing twenty four hours a day." She laughed then, and so did Ron.
"So," he said. "Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."
"Oh, you're not upset I've interrupted your marvy sleep?" There was still amusement in her voice.
The redhead shook his head, and then remembered she couldn't see it. "You didn't interrupt a thing. I was trying to drift off, but failing miserably. Up like you, listening to the rain." He paused. "So tell me. . .what's up?"
"Nothing since you've been away. Just reading -"
"Of course," Ron put in.
" - and waiting to go back to Hogwarts," she went on. He could tell that Hermione was smiling.
He rolled his eyes. " 'Mione, it's still the summer hols. You've got a whole 'nother month until it's time to open up your grade-book again!"
"I know, but teaching there is the only thing I've wanted to do. I probably won't stop for a long time," she answered.
"Hmm," he murmured in response.
It was silent on both sides of the line for a time, the only noise being the continous rain teeming down on London. Finally Hermione spoke again.
"I do a lot of thinking about things when you're gone," she said quietly. "About how things go by so fast sometimes, and about how things can change so fast."
"Because you're scared for me?" Ron replied, his tone equal to hers.
"Uh hu. I get worried, you know? Maybe something might happen, and you could never get back to Britain."
" 'Mione. . .you shouldn't think like that, it'll only get you more worked up," he said.
"I know, but I can't help it sometimes," Hermione replied ruefully. "It's like when I look out at the stars at night, and what if they're, in reality, caving in on us? I mean, they don't pose much of threat when you look at them, but what if they really do, and you just don't know it?"
She's got a little bit of something, God, it's better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that she's got it all
She swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to
And she only sleeps when it's raining
And she screams, and her voice is straining
He blinked. "That's really a deep thought, 'Mione." Pause. "I guess I never thought about it before. When I'm out there, I think about you all of the time, and it keeps me going. I don't like to take up time worrying about the possibilites, and just, look up."
Hermione let a breath, which wasn't quite a sigh. "Sometimes it's hard for me to though, because I'm the one here and, you're the one. . .there."
She says baby
It's 3 am, I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well, I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
Says the rain's gonna wash away, I believe it
Ron was at a loss on how to reply. Suddenly all he wanted to do was reach through the telephone and embrace her as hard as he could, to reassure her that everything was just fine. He sat there for a moment, and then plainly blurted out, " 'Mione, I love you."
Abruptly her voice was alight again. "Really?"
"Uh hu." He grinned. "I'm sorry I didn't call."
"I love you, too, Ron," Hermione replied.
His smile grew wider. "I know."
"I get so worried about you and fuss over you all the time because I love you. I care about you more than anyone in the entire world." Her voice was smiling again.
"I know," he said again, and then in a reassuring tone, "And don't I always write back and say that I'll be careful and that everything's going to be okay? That'll I'll be home when I say I'll be?"
"You do. And you always promise it, too."
"And I'll never break that promise, either," Ron said softly. The desire to reach through the phone and hug her was growing stronger.
There was a silence from Hermione's side, and he was quite sure she was fighting to hold back her tears. "Oh, Ron, I love you so much," she finally whispered.
She believes that life is made up of all that you're used to
And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days and days
She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway
But outside it's stopped raining
"Me too. More than life," he whispered back.
There a silence between them again, and Ron pulled the receiver away for a moment to yawn. "What time is it?" He heard Hermione ask.
"Quarter past three, I think," he murmured. Glancing out the window, he had something else to report to her. "I think the storm's letting up a bit, too."
"Is it?" Hermione inquired. "Well, that's good."
Ron smiled to himself and then, "Hey 'Mione?"
"Hmm?"
"Let's see each other tomorrow," he told her.
She laughed. "Well, I was hoping to plan on it."
"No, I mean. . .say we pick up Harry and Ginny, swing 'round the Burrow and then drop by Fred and George's place, and. . ." Ron stammered.
"And. . .?" Hermione prompted.
"Get m-married."
"Instead of next month?"
"Yeah!" He replied brightly.
Suddenly Hermione couldn't hold down a giggle. "You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Weasley."
At that moment, Ron felt as if he could conjure the greatest Patronus that the wizarding world had ever seen.
She says baby
It's 3 am, I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well, I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
But the rain's gonna wash away I believe, this
"Well, then, good night," he said, saying goodbye.
There was no doubt in his mind that Hermione was grinning, too. "Pleasant dreams, Ron."
He was just about to hang up when he immediately thought of something. "Hey, hey 'Mione?"
She was still there. "Hmm?"
"I don't suppose the fellytone's all that bad." He smiled.
"No," Hermione agreed, "the fellytone's pretty fab, after all."
It's 3 am, I must be lonely
Yeah, and she says baby
Well, I can't help but to be scared of it all sometimes
el fin
