Grave Revelation

By Redd Butterfly

Disclaimer: I'm not stupid enough to pull a Nancy Stouffer. HP characters do NOT belong to me.

Chapter 3: Handkerchief

"So...You...um...want to talk about it?"

That is probably one of the hardest questions I ever had to answer. One part of me didn't want to talk about it. Have you any idea how embarrassing that would be?

I; Hermione Granger, the self assured and composed one; am going crazy keeping my distresses hidden within myself, while at the same time living with the torturing guilt of lying to and keeping something important from my parents. How can I say that to Ron? He'd laugh at me.

On the other hand, if I didn't allow him to help, I might get pushed so far that even I won't be able to help myself. Swallowing my pride, I nodded slowly.

We then got up from the couch, and I led him to the kitchen, all the while making sure I didn't let go of his hand.

Regretfully, I had to let it go when we got there. Washing my face is a lot easier and less awkward using both of my hands.

After letting the cool water wash away my tears, I straightened up and was surprised when Ron started to wipe my face dry with a handkerchief. Then he took my hands and wiped them dry as well. When I was all dry again, he shoved the handkerchief into his back jean pocket.

Not letting go of my other hand, he led me to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar.

Making sure I was settled, he walked away. For a second, although I do not know why, my heart cried out for him to come back. Good thing my brain quickly noticed that he was just getting us some water, and was able to stop my mouth from making the cry audible.

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While walking to the sink to get them some water, Ron cursed himself over and over in his head for his not being able to control himself and becoming so forward with Hermione.

What the hell was I thinking?! Why did I just do that?! Have I gone mad?! What she must think of me now! Great job Ron, she'll never talk to you now.

Coming back with their glasses of water, he chanced a look at Hermione and noticed she was smiling.

Assured that she wasn't mad at him, he sat down on the stool on her left and waited for her to start.

Several minutes passed, and Hermione still hasn't said a word. Ron understood how difficult this must be for her. He could see it on her face.

She'd looked like she was giving herself a little pep talk, and when she was ready to say something, she'd open her mouth, but closes it again before she could even get the first word out.

This happened four times already. Ron didn't want her too suffer with this. If she didn't want to tell him, she doesn't have to. He didn't want her to feel pressured or anything just because he was her best friend, even if he did come all this way.

"Hermione," he said softly. She looked up at him. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I could get someone else—"

"No. I just need some time to, you know, get it together." She looked back down at the table.

After another several minutes, Ron was willing to talk about anything just to break the silence. As he opened his mouth to ask if she already did her Potions essay, Hermione spoke.

"I'm scared." She said this very quietly, but Ron heard it. Then she looked at him and continued.

"Sorry for hitting you. I was having a nightmare that the Death Eaters attacked my house and killed my father. They were about to kill me, but I woke up."

"It's ok." He gave a little nod and waited for her to go on. Her eyes started to tear again so she looked down, but the tears just kept falling as she went on.

"I've been hiding everything from my parents. They don't know anything. Not about Voldemort coming back. Or the danger we're all in," she began, speaking softly. "Ron, I've been lying to them! Never in my entire life have I kept anything from them, but I'm worried that if they do find out, they won't let me go back to school. And what if my dream does come true and the Death Eaters do attack?"

When she finished, she stayed silent waiting for Ron to say something. When he inhaled quite audibly, he thought he saw her she cringe a little, as if scared he'll start laughing.

Instead, with the softest voice he had, he said, "Everyone's scared Hermione. You're not alone in this. We're here for you." Then after a short pause, he added, "I'm here for you."

"Oh, Ron." With that, she jumped out of her stool and hugged Ron around his neck and, once again, sobbed into his shoulder. As he hugged her back, Ron couldn't help but smile because he knew that these weren't the same tears that stained his chest. No, these were tears of happiness. And making her happy was probably the best feeling in the world.

Finally, the burden that seemed to have been weighing him down for most of the day was lifted off, and he could enjoy the hug he was sharing with Hermione to the fullest.

After another several minutes, Hermione finally regained some composure and some sanity and pulled away from Ron far enough to see his face without going cross-eyed, yet remained close enough so her arms could slid down and hold him around his waist while his arms stay around hers.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. Ron just nodded. When two people are as close as they are and know each other so well, words are no longer needed.

"Your parents have to know, though."

"I know." Hermione sighed. "I can't do it alone, though. Help me?" She looked into his eyes pleadingly.

"Of course," he said with an incredulous look that clearly said You needn't have asked. "You want me to ask my parents to help, too?" She just smiled and nodded.

"Ok, I'll go back, tell Mum, and I'll be here with them around—is eight all right?"

"Yeah."

He looked at her. Her eyes and nose were red from all her crying. He couldn't leave her alone like this. He wanted to keep her company and make sure she'll be all right.

"I could stay here if you want." Then he thought of a better idea, and smiled as he told it to her. "Or you can come back with me, and the two of us can come back the moment your parents get home so we can warn them that my dad is coming over and might possibly bombard them with questions about muggle devices."

Hermione laughed. Ron loved her laugh. Almost as much as he loved Hermi—

Hold on! Did I just think that? Hehe. I'm actually fine with that. I love Hermione! I kind of like the way that sounds. Ron loves Hermione! Good ring to it, I think.

"Since they're coming here, you better put a cover on all those muggle devices in your living room. There'll be no way we'd get to tell your parents anything if my dad sees those."

She laughed again. Yup, he confirmed to himself that he did in fact love her.

"I'm sure your dad has some self control."

"Fine. But if he doesn't, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Fine."

"So, does that mean your coming back with me?" He already knew the answer, but, for some reason, he wanted to hear her say it.

"Yeah. I'd love that."

Ron's heart skipped a beat. Never did he expect her to say 'love.' He was expecting a simple "Yes" or maybe even a mocked "Whatever," but love. He couldn't help but smile.

Ron then released Hermione's waist (although he really didn't want to) and stood up to get his handkerchief from his back pocket. Not sitting back down, he bent over and gently wiped away her tears.

After drying her face for the second time that day, he replaced his handkerchief into his pocket. Then he grabbed Hermione's hand to help her off of her stool and, never letting go, led her back to her living room.

Once in front of the fireplace, he gave her some of the Floo Powder he'd carried with him in a pouch.

"Ladies first." Hermione smiled at him. Then she stepped in to fireplace and—

"The Burrow!"

In a burst of emerald-green flames, she was gone.

Ron stared at the spot where Hermione last stood. Instinctively, he took out his handkerchief. Feeling quite happy, Ron stepped into the fireplace and followed his love.

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A/N  Thanks to all who reviewed. Kinda more fluffy than angsty, huh? Oh, well. I love fluff.