(A/N - This part's from Hermione's point of view. A bit of R/H for you all. Mm..R/H...yum.
Oh, right, and in case you didn't notice, I AM continuing this story...=])
Three weeks had past since she had last seen Ron Weasley. Three lonely, heart wrenching, nervous weeks. Hermione didn't expect to see him anytime soon again, at least not until the holidays, which were still three long months away.
Hermione stood up and looked around her Ron-less apartment. It was much cooler than it should have been for October...the fine hair on her arms was standing up, and her legs were prickled with bumps from the cold. She lit a fire in the corner of the living room part of the apartment, which immediately warmed her up.
Hermione sat there in front of the fire for a while, curled up reading on her comfortable sofa. She still wondered why Ron had ever bugged her about reading so much - it was times like this when she needed a book more than ever, to bring her into a completely different world. But right now, Hermione would have given half her savings to see Ron in front of her, even if it were bugging her endlessly about her fascination with Hogwarts; A History.
Before she knew it, Hermione was fast asleep on the sofa, her open book laid across her chest. She hadn't expected to be woken up only a few moments later by a "Psssst," close by her.
The first thing Hermione thought was that she was being robbed, and she stood up in a flash, whipping out her wand and pointing it at random objects around the room. She heard someone snort in laughter, but she wasn't sure it was coming from. Hermione proceeded to walk around the room, poking various objects, until-
"Oy, Hermione!" A familiar voice came from behind her. No, it couldn't be...but...right there in the fire was Ron's face.
It was all of Hermione's strength to not scream out loud. In fact, she did let out a yelp, before running up to the fire and putting her face next to it.
"Ron," she breathed. She shut her eyes, then opened them. He was still there. Ron was with her.
"Took you long enough," he said with a lopsided grin. It wasn't real, Hermione knew it.
"How are things...there," said Hermione, just now realizing bruises on his face. "And what happened to your face?"
Ron's face tightened. "It's nothing," He said flatly. "I'm fine."
"You aren't...tell me what's wrong."
"I'm in a war, I guess that's what's wrong. And I miss everyone, and you. I miss you."
Ron's blue eyes looked dull and sunken in, and they reminded Hermione of Sirius Black's eyes upon his return from Azkaban.
"I miss you more. More than you know," Hermione's face was very close to the flames now. She could feel them licking her face, but they felt cool, and she wondered if she were able to touch him through them. They seemed awfully thin, and Ron seemed awfully close not to touch.
But Hermione didn't have to wonder anymore when Ron's hand came out of the fire, and she grasped it as soon as she saw it. It wasn't real. It was solid, but she could almost see through it, but she held it and linked her fingers with it all the same. Ron brought her hand through the fire and kissed the top of it.
"I have to go now," He said, and swallowed.
Hermione couldn't help it. She closed her eyes very tightly and forced her head through the flames - she could hardly breath deep, but it didn't matter. Her mouth found Ron's and they kissed fiercely, and it was the single most bizarre feeling either of them had ever experienced. His mouth felt frozen on her's, but it was thrilling, with her face in the fire and Ron's hand in her hair.
Ron pulled away breathlessly. "They're calling me. I have to go,"
Hermione nodded. "Come again," she said. "Soon."
"I will," He said. And then, "I love you."
And then he was gone. Hermione wiped her tears. They didn't speak of love much - it had always been there, floating with them when they were together. They didn't need to tell each other, because they knew. They were Ron and Hermione, and that had always been a big enough explanation.
Oh, right, and in case you didn't notice, I AM continuing this story...=])
Three weeks had past since she had last seen Ron Weasley. Three lonely, heart wrenching, nervous weeks. Hermione didn't expect to see him anytime soon again, at least not until the holidays, which were still three long months away.
Hermione stood up and looked around her Ron-less apartment. It was much cooler than it should have been for October...the fine hair on her arms was standing up, and her legs were prickled with bumps from the cold. She lit a fire in the corner of the living room part of the apartment, which immediately warmed her up.
Hermione sat there in front of the fire for a while, curled up reading on her comfortable sofa. She still wondered why Ron had ever bugged her about reading so much - it was times like this when she needed a book more than ever, to bring her into a completely different world. But right now, Hermione would have given half her savings to see Ron in front of her, even if it were bugging her endlessly about her fascination with Hogwarts; A History.
Before she knew it, Hermione was fast asleep on the sofa, her open book laid across her chest. She hadn't expected to be woken up only a few moments later by a "Psssst," close by her.
The first thing Hermione thought was that she was being robbed, and she stood up in a flash, whipping out her wand and pointing it at random objects around the room. She heard someone snort in laughter, but she wasn't sure it was coming from. Hermione proceeded to walk around the room, poking various objects, until-
"Oy, Hermione!" A familiar voice came from behind her. No, it couldn't be...but...right there in the fire was Ron's face.
It was all of Hermione's strength to not scream out loud. In fact, she did let out a yelp, before running up to the fire and putting her face next to it.
"Ron," she breathed. She shut her eyes, then opened them. He was still there. Ron was with her.
"Took you long enough," he said with a lopsided grin. It wasn't real, Hermione knew it.
"How are things...there," said Hermione, just now realizing bruises on his face. "And what happened to your face?"
Ron's face tightened. "It's nothing," He said flatly. "I'm fine."
"You aren't...tell me what's wrong."
"I'm in a war, I guess that's what's wrong. And I miss everyone, and you. I miss you."
Ron's blue eyes looked dull and sunken in, and they reminded Hermione of Sirius Black's eyes upon his return from Azkaban.
"I miss you more. More than you know," Hermione's face was very close to the flames now. She could feel them licking her face, but they felt cool, and she wondered if she were able to touch him through them. They seemed awfully thin, and Ron seemed awfully close not to touch.
But Hermione didn't have to wonder anymore when Ron's hand came out of the fire, and she grasped it as soon as she saw it. It wasn't real. It was solid, but she could almost see through it, but she held it and linked her fingers with it all the same. Ron brought her hand through the fire and kissed the top of it.
"I have to go now," He said, and swallowed.
Hermione couldn't help it. She closed her eyes very tightly and forced her head through the flames - she could hardly breath deep, but it didn't matter. Her mouth found Ron's and they kissed fiercely, and it was the single most bizarre feeling either of them had ever experienced. His mouth felt frozen on her's, but it was thrilling, with her face in the fire and Ron's hand in her hair.
Ron pulled away breathlessly. "They're calling me. I have to go,"
Hermione nodded. "Come again," she said. "Soon."
"I will," He said. And then, "I love you."
And then he was gone. Hermione wiped her tears. They didn't speak of love much - it had always been there, floating with them when they were together. They didn't need to tell each other, because they knew. They were Ron and Hermione, and that had always been a big enough explanation.
