Author's Note: I'm going to update more frequently, so you're all aware. I thought of another concept that I want to do, but at this rate, I won't be finished before I turn fifty (which is in… a lot of years), so I'm going to finish soon! I hope. I'd guess maybe six or seven more chapters… hmm.
Breathe in for luck.
Breathe in so deep.
This air is blessed, you share with me.
This night is wild, so calm and dull.
These hearts, they race, from self control.
Your legs are soft, as they graze mine.
We're doing fine.
We're doing nothing at all.
My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me? So I die happy.
My heart is yours, to fill or burst, or break or bury.
Or wear as jewellery.
Whichever you prefer.
Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember.
Always remember the sound of the stereo.
The dim of the soft lights.
The scent of your hair, that you twirled in your fingers.
And the time on the clock when we realized "It's so late!" and this walk that we share together.
The streets are wet, and the gate was locked, so I jumped it, and let you in.
And you stood at the door, with your hands on my waist, and you kissed me like you meant it.
And I knew…that you meant it.
-Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional
(I skipped the second verse)
Chapter Six: Hands Down
They pulled away sharply at the brief touch of their lips, wide-eyed, as if it were their first. The only sound was that of the rain beating down outside, the crackling of the fire, the soft sounds from the stereo, and their deep breathing.
"Did you feel that?" he asked her when he found his voice.
"Feel what?" She asked in reply.
He grinned that roguish, lopsided grin that could melt even the hardest of hearts. "We made a spark." He looked anxiously on for her reply, as if what she would say would make or break him. She almost saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes when she didn't say anything, but he looked down quickly. Milton, her cat, jumped into her lap, distracting her, and giving Ron the chance to stand and glance at the clock.
"I'd better get going. It's… erm… getting late. I…erm… haven't had much sleep, you know and… well I have to work tomorrow morning… so… bye, then." He walked to the coat rack, and retrieved his cloak, putting the hood up, and wishing that his job wasn't so high risk. The Ministry put safeguards on Aurors' flats, making it impossible to apparate inside of a certain radius.
Hermione felt a pang as she watched him leave. "Wait!" she said. "I'll walk you home. I need to get out of the house."
"You don't have t-"
"I want to."
She pulled her cloak on quickly and slipped on a pair of trainers, not noticing or caring that she was wearing yesterday's clothes. They stepped outside, and the instant that their feet hit the wet pavement, they were both overjoyed that Ron's apartment was only a few blocks away. They walked in silence, an awkward haze hanging in the air. Neither was saying a word. They did not need to.
It was Hermione who finally broke the silence, saying, "So how long will you be gone this time?"
"I'm not sure," he replied. "Maybe a month. Maybe more."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"I don't now what I'll do for a month without you here... and by you I also mean Harry and Ginny, and… well, you."
They stopped at a streetlight, waiting for the few cars to pass, both being pelted with rain. Hermione's cloak didn't have a hood, and she had forgotten to bring her wand in order to make herself waterproof, so there she was, being soaked from head to toe, not caring and wondering whether she had made a huge mistake with Ron. After the kiss, she had seen the look on his face, and felt that empty feeling inside of herself. She wanted to make it better, and to let him know that she really did understand. She really did feel what he felt, but was too afraid to admit it.
Instead of waiting for the light to turn, they waited for a respite from the oncoming traffic and jogged across the street. They were beginning to get cold now. When they arrived at Ron's apartment building, the gate that served as an entrance was locked.
Ron swore as he fumbled around in his pockets for his keys, only to come up empty-handed.
"I forgot my keys," he said. "And my wand."
"How are you going to get inside?" Hermione asked. "You can stay the night at my house, if you- what are you doing?"
Ron had taken off his cloak and was shaking the gate to test its' stability. He began to climb. Upon reaching the top, he looked down, wondering just how he was going to get out of this situation. He held his breath and jumped, hoping to land on his feet, and hoping that Hermione wouldn't see the pained expression on his face. He turned and opened the gate for her to walk in.
"D'you want to come in and get dried off or something?" he asked, nearly having to yell over the din of the rain, now storm, about them. She shouted something but he couldn't hear it. She nodded. He always was a visual learner.
She walked through the gate, and the two of them ran to the front door. It was locked, as he'd expected. He pressed the buzzer of his landlady, hoping that she would be able to hear him.
"Hello?" asked his landlady, Mrs. McCool.
"Mrs. McCool? This is Ron Weasley in 11A. I've forgotten my keys and I was wondering of you could buzz me in?"
"Of course, Ronald. And thank you so much for helping me carry out my garbage the other day. I was just thinking of how I ever would have been able to-"
"Mrs. McCool, it's raining rather hard."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Have a nice night, Ronald."
The door unlocked, allowing the two of them to go inside. Ron put one foot inside the doorway when Hermione grabbed his arm, pulling him back out to where she was. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed Ron with everything that she had in her. Gratitude, respect, love, desperation, and even want.
When they broke apart, her arms were encircling his waist, and his hands were entwined somewhere in her hair. Once more she stood on her toes, but this time, she placed a light kiss on his cheek.
"Good night," she said.
She left him on the doorstep, smiling.
It was October. Her fiancé had cheated on her. She was "engaged" to a man that she didn't love. She had just received a wedding invitation to her ex-fiancé's wedding in May, and yet she had a distinct bounce in her step as she checked up on her patients.
Ron had come home safely late last night. She hadn't slept a wink until she had received that owl. Of course she and stopped by his flat every day during the three weeks that he had been gone, but it wasn't the same as actually seeing him. She had her now married (and nicely tanned) friends back from their honeymoon. All she needed no was Ron and all the pieces would fall into place.
She knocked on the door of her next patient's room, smiling at the sound of laughter that floated to her ears.
"Come in," said a familiar voice. She pushed the door open and was promptly bombarded by a rogue pillow.
"Hello again, Doctor Granger," Mr. Harrison said the way that he always did. She had come to be so closely connected with this family, that it would almost be strange when they were no longer around. She took in the room. The shiny linoleum floors and the pseudo-calming beige walls were barely visible through the mounds of candy, cards, flowers and gifts; the starched-stiff white sheets were hardly distinguishable beneath the blue and yellow quilt, featuring the players of the Piccadilly Pirates, Joey's favourite team, zooming around. The quilt had been a gift from Hermione. She had become so attached to Joseph in the three and a half weeks that he had been here that she was sure to cry this afternoon when he was discharged from St. Mungo's.
Two small boys were jumping on the rock-hard mattress. She had come to know both of them very well. One, of course, was Joey, and the other was his best friend, Marcus (Marcus Flint, Jr.). They were jumping up and down, up and down, and Hermione found it hard to keep up with them. Joey noticed her presence in the room, and immediately fell on to the bed, with a look of utter innocence, as if he hadn't been using hospital property as a trampoline at all. Marcus followed suit.
"Guess what, Dr. Herms?" Joey said, very excited.
"What?"
"I get to go home today! Isn't that cool?"
"It most certainly is. I just came in to say goodbye. I leave work in a few minutes, and I won't see you for awhile," she felt a lump forming in her throat as she thought about saying goodbye to her small charge.
"But you'll see me tomorrow, won't you?"
"No, you go home tonight."
"I mean at the Quidditch game. Your seats are right next to ours!"
Mr. Harrison cleared his throat, stepping into the conversation. "Doctor," he said, "These are for you." He handed her an envelope. "We wanted to say thank you for all that you've done." Hermione opened the envelope and pulled out two tickets to tomorrow's Quidditch match- the Piccadilly Pirates versus none other than the Chudley Cannons. It would be a nice welcome home surprise for Ron. "Now if tomorrow isn't good for you, we can get tickets for another date," Mr. Harrison went on. Hermione looked up with a huge grin on her face.
"No, no, tomorrow is wonderful. Thank you so much, Mr. Harris- Malcolm. My friend Ron and I will enjoy these very much."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Ron shook the sleep from his eyes, as he struggled to keep his vision from blurring. Who was knocking on his door when they could just apparate in? He then realized that there was no way to apparate into an auror's house, due to all of the Ministry imposed safeguards. He'd have to open the door.
Knock.
He swung his legs around the side of the bed. He had crashed the night before, not bothering to shower, change his clothes, or even get under the covers. Hermione had made his bed so tightly that he doubted that he would have had the strength the previous night to even wrench them free.
Knock.
He shakily stood and walked at the rate of a tortoise to open his door. He leaned on the doorframe, and swung the door open, seeing just the person that he expected on the other side. Hermione was standing there, pink-cheeked and grinning sheepishly. He smiled in spite of himself as she wrapped her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over, saying, without words, of course, "I'm so glad that you weren't chewed up, swallowed whole, cursed, blasted into a million pieces, splinched, dismembered, beheaded, boiled, shrunken, poisoned or killed in general."
She pulled away, but didn't loosen her embrace. As Ron thought, her eyes immediately moved to his left cheek. It was still raw from where he had been cut by a werewolf during a particularly tough scrape.
"It's fine," he said, diverting the unavoidable doting that he would receive. He backed into his flat. "Come in." She found her way to the kitchen, spewing spells left and right, making tea, biscuits, everything.
"I'm so glad that you're all right, Ron," she said as he lay down on the couch. "And I know that all you probably want to do right now is sleep, but I have a surprise for you."
At the word surprise, Ron's ears perked up. He loved surprises.
"Do you think that you can take a break from all of the paperwork that you'll have to do tomorrow to accompany me on a date?" She asked, emerging from the kitchen with tea.
"A date? As long as it's not a symposium or a lecture or a poetry reading or... something boring."
Hermione stared at him for a second, before bristling. "Yes, I suppose you wouldn't be interested. It would be a little too boring for you, now wouldn't it? Of course the Chudley Cannons play their arch rivals almost every day of the season, what would make tomorrow's game any different? Forget I asked, I'll just give the tickets to Harry and Ginny and let you get back to your rest." She stood, retreating back into the kitchen with her teacup.
"Stop!" Ron commanded. She turned immediately with quite a patronizing smile.
"Yes, Ron, what is it?"
"You have tickets to the Pirates-Cannons game tomorrow afternoon?"
"Yes, but like I said, you certainly wouldn't be interested in accompanying me, so I should just-"
"What time should I pick you up?"
Hermione was not a Quidditch fan. Even someone who didn't know her could tell that. As the players were out and about before the game, zooming this way and that, Ron was incessantly screaming and she was wonder just what in the name of Merlin was going on. At one point, Ron saw her confusion and sat down, explaining the players and quoting random statistics.
He laughed, as she furrowed her brow once more in confusion. "If you don't get it now, and they're just warming up, I'd hate to see you when the game actually starts."
She turned and swatted him, but he caught her hand, and brought it to his lips.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, pulling back as if burnt. "Hands off."
"We're a couple, right?" He raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to blush. "Besides, you didn't seem to mind the first time." He winked while she was still to stunned to say anything and stood once more, cheering loudly, as the mascots came onto the pitch.
But it was true… she hadn't.
"Excuse me! Excuse me, please, that's my seat! Excuse me!"
At the familiar voice, Hermione's head turned, drawing her out of her personal haze, and she smiled again. Joey and his father were making their way to their seats, right next to Hermione and Ron's. Joey plopped down next to Hermione, saying, "Hey there, Dr. Herms!"
"Hello, Joey; Malcolm," she shook Mr. Harrison's hand, and stood up to join Ron in watching the mascots, dancing, shouting, taunting and laughing. "How soon before the game starts?" she asked Ron, nudging him.
He grinned. "So you've forgiven me, eh? Wondered how long that would take." He winked at her, and said, "Should start in about fifteen."
"I'm rather thirsty; would you like me to get you anything?"
Ron dug around in his pocket for some money, and handed her a few sickles. "Could you get me some-"
"Chocolate frogs, I know. Be back in five!" She pushed her way through the crowds of people and down the steps to the outside of the arena where she would be able to buy from the vendors circling the stands. What she really wanted, besides a drink, was a chance to think. Ron shouldn't have been making her stomach do flip-flops. He never did before. At the mention of their previous kiss, she thought that she could have died, right then and there- not because he had brought it up, but because she found herself revelling in the memory of it. Not in the memory of the kiss itself, but of what Ron had said afterward.
"A box of chocolate frogs, please," she asked the witch who was manning the snack booth. "And a bottle of water." She forked over the money and received her change and items. She heard a burst of cheers from the stands, and picked up her pace. Ron would kill her if she missed any of the game.
She was making her way back to her seat when Joey caught her arm.
"Dr. Herms," he said, barely above a whisper, "Who's that bloke with you?"
"That's my friend Ron," she replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Are you sure he's just a friend?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. She fought the urge to laugh when she answered his question, saying, "I'm pretty sure."
"I don't think so," said Joey. "As his fellow man, I can say that no bloke looks at his friend the way he's looking at you now." Hermione's knees nearly gave out on her, considering the person that she was having this ludicrous conversation with was ten years old. However, curiosity kept her standing, wondering just how exactly Ron was looking at her right now. She moved to take a look when Joey's grip on her arm tightened. "Not. Right. Now. He'll know that you know. Now, turn your head slowly, hand him the chocolate frogs, and give me one."
As the thousands of fans were leaving the stadium, Hermione was all smiles. She was listening to Ron and Joey debate over the Cannons and the Pirates.
"True," said Joey, "Wells is a good Seeker, and they've got lots of other good players, too. But Homer is a phenomenal Seeker! He inspires the rest of his team-mates."
"I agree with you," said Ron, "However, one player cannot carry a team. Wells may not be as good of a Seeker, but he has better team-mates backing him up. They've all got as much skill in their respective positions."
"Well… the Pirates are still better."
"No way. Cannons rock all."
Hermione exchanged a smile with Mr. Harrison, and they each tugged on the arm of their respective child.
"Thank you so much, again, Malcolm," Hermione said.
"Definitely, thanks a million!" Ron agreed. "And Joey, you'd better play for Hogwarts next year, or I'll personally come and force you to tryout."
"All right. Bye, Dr. Herms! Bye, Ron!" Joey called as they were walking away. Both Ron and Hermione waved.
They turned and walked towards town, hoping to grab something for dinner.
"That was fun," Ron said, draping his arm heavily around Hermione's shoulders. She leaned into him, throwing him off balance and making him laugh.
"I'm glad you had fun," she said. "Oh, Ron, I meant to ask you- what colour are you wearing to the Halloween banquet?"
"What?"
"The Ball. It's in two weeks. We're still going, aren't we?"
"Oh, right. The ball… yes, we'll go I guess."
"What colour are you wearing?"
"Blue."
Hermione smiled broadly. "Blue would be just lovely."