Frozen Memories
A collective series of R/H moments
Some moments, even the simplest of everyday occurrences, can make an imprint in your mind forever. And you can never seem to melt those memories eternally frozen in time, those simple things that made the difference.
(A/N) Please see A/N at the end of this fic. Also a gigantimungous thank you to my beta, Amber! Thanks so much! This story wouldn't be what it is without you! Huggles for Amber from everyone! So now, on with the story. Read and review and I hope you enjoy as well!
(Disclaimer) I own none of these characters. I just enjoy writing sappy stories about them.
-1st in a series of consecutive one-shots
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Maybe Someday
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She had sat at the window nearly all afternoon, watching the bright sun fade slowly into the blood red horizon. You would have expected her to be studying, doing homework or at least blaming me and Harry for not doing our own…. But she wasn't, and that's what worried me.
Sure, I listened to Harry complain about the Potions essay we were supposed to be writing, and I dipped my quill in the inkbottle every once in a while (even though I hadn't written a single word), but those were mere distractions. All I could do was watch her and ponder exactly what was going through her mind.
Girls are like that--strange and complicated. After living with two at home and one at school, I was bound to learn something about them, wasn't I? I don't know very much about anything, but I've got to give myself credit--I know girls and how they work. You see, girls are the silent ones of the species, the ones who can sit and brood in their misery all day without one sullen word as to the reason for their sulking. And, Hermione was just being the textbook case.
Finally, just after sunset, she came back to life. With a tired sigh, Hermione blinked and glanced over in my direction. Caught staring at her, I blushed red and smiled an awkward smile before looking down at my blank parchment. I could feel the hair on my neck standing up and a burn scorch up to my ears. Even if I couldn't see it, I knew that I was blushing a deep crimson--and that everyone could see it as well.
As Hermione pattered across the floor, I kept my face hidden in my potions book (at least until my blush faded) and subconsciously started making a silent list of excuses as to why my work wasn't done. But, as she sat down next to me on the roughly sewn hearthrug, the sight of her made me forget all pretences.
Her eyes were rimmed with red, as if she had been crying (but she hadn't, had she? I thought I'd watched her all day…). My heart melted like a chocolate frog baking in the greenhouse--as only it could have done for her. Of course, I realize that comparing a chocolate frog to Hermione Granger isn't exactly one of the most romantic things one could think to say about a person, but I never did claim that I was a romantic type of person, did I?
I immediately put a hand on her shoulder and was a breath away from asking her what was wrong when she began to open and close her mouth like she was having difficulty breathing. I could tell, as she sat there with her mouth partly open and a word half-hanging from her lips, that she was fighting inwardly with the answer before the question even escaped my throat.
"Well, I, er…" Hermione started, looking anywhere but at my face.
'Oh no,' I though. If she couldn't think straight, then undoubtedly she had something on her mind. And, really, I wasn't all that eager to learn just what that was.
"I…I…" She finally just sighed and, looking back into my eyes, she asked, "Do you want to go for a walk?"
Well, I was quite taken off-guard, and I gazed at her sceptically for a few seconds before answering. "Er… uh, yeah. Sure, why not?"
She smiled in a half-heartened manner and stood up, pulling me to the portrait hole forcefully. I took a silent glance back at Harry, who was trying to stifle a laugh behind his hand. I reminded myself to be sure to rudely wake him up as soon as I got back… (Would it be with a bucket of cold water or, better, a small glass of warm water to dangle his fingers in?) Feeling both extremely lucky and extremely unlucky at the same time, I followed her, raging emotions and all, out of the portrait hole and into the dark grounds of Hogwarts… alone.
Hermione walked beside me the entire way down the corridors, down the many flights of stairs, her arms now folded across her chest and her head hung in a solemn bow. Whatever it was that was going through her head, I did my best to avoid it. You see, another lesson I've learned from 16 years with women--the longer you stay quiet, the longer you stay out of trouble. And I did just that.
When we got into the Entrance Hall, I could smell the sweet scents of dinner wafting through the Great Hall, calling to me and making my stomach audibly growl. (Mmm… Was that steak and kidney pie?) Knowing that whatever the house elves were cooking would have to wait until Hermione was finished talking to me, I hung my head in the same manner as hers and followed her out onto the Hogwarts grounds. Although I was disappointed (and hungry), I knew that whatever she had to say was important to her. After all, since when does Hermione ask me to "go for a walk" with her?
The night stars hung in the sky, and a small strip of the setting sun was still barely visible on the horizon. The air was crisp and cool and a slight breeze lifted Hermione's hair and curled it about her head. And it was funny, but even despite how completely vulnerable she truly looked right now, Hermione was bloody gorgeous. It was like someone had painted her there against the sky, and I was totally in awe. Well until she decided it was time to finally look up again. Then I was just plain nervous.
She opened her mouth and, in barely a whisper, asked, "Ron, do you know how long it's been since I last rode on a broom?"
I tried to look politely confused, raising my eyebrows ever so slightly and cocking my head casually to the side. In my mind, though, I was pondering what the hell must have been going on in that little head of hers. Since when was she so interested in flying?
Instead of an answer, I cautiously shook my head.
Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked over at me with almost expectancy. "Five years," she said, turning abruptly away again to look up into the sky as though questioning the stars.
'Alright,' I thought, getting irritated. 'This is getting us absolutely nowhere.' Then, my stomach gave an uncomfortable growl and, before I remembered that girls don't like to be snapped at, I groaned, "So, what's your point, Hermione?"
She sent me a sharp snap with her eyes and I felt myself flinch in reflex. But, just as quickly, her look softened and she turned her face back to the sky. I was surprised that I had survived. Something must really be up with her.
"The point is that I haven't flown in a while."
I looked at her again, expecting her to say something else. After all, she couldn't have dragged me outside, making me miss dinner, just to tell me how long it's been since she'd last rode a bloody broomstick.
"So?"
Another whip of the head and another piercing stare from Hermione's chestnut eyes sent me a silent warning to keep my mouth shut.
"I guess I'm saying that I'd like to fly again… maybe… someday." This time, Hermione didn't whip her head in my direction but sneaked a slow peek I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't already been looking at her.
"Oh," I murmured under my breath as I contemplated if she meant what I think she meant. Again proceeding with caution, I took a step toward her and asked, "So, do you want to go for a ride…right now?"
Hermione gave another sneaking glance in my direction, but this time, she held it long enough that I could actually catch her eyes this time. She seemed to be trying not to smile and was actually slightly grimacing in her hidden anticipation.
"Well, only if you'd like to." She glanced back over at me and I could have sworn that that look, that secretive look from the corner of her eyes, was almost…flirty. But this was Hermione we are talking about. Who was Hermione to be flirty?
I shrugged, still not so sure what exactly to do. "Why not?" I added with a half-smile in her direction.
She smiled in return, the first one she had given me all day.
I can't even remember walking over to the broom shed. It seemed my paces had quickened and I was in hyper-walk mode. Maybe I was just a little eager, but for what exactly I wasn't sure.
I mounted my broom and patted a little space left behind me for her to climb on. I was surprised to see that she almost skipped over to me, a large grin plastered on her face. She straddled the broom and settled in a bit, and then I felt her body tighten and stop moving. I raised my eyebrows in confusion and turned my head to the side. I could only see half of her body sitting there awkwardly as though pondering something inwardly to herself and I questioned if she was okay.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine!" she said in an oddly shrill shriek.
I shrugged it off mentally and turned my focus instead to the sky ahead of me. It was a perfect night to fly.
And then… it hit me.
Hermione's hands slowly crept their way around my waist and left behind a trail of tingles and gooseflesh where her skin brushed against my side. I felt my heart catch in my throat and I stopped breathing suddenly. Actually I had to remind myself to breathe that entire time it took her to situate herself around me, and, for some reason, it took quite a while too…
I pushed off the ground, knowing that even if I hadn't wanted to fly earlier, Hermione's arms wrapped so snugly around my waist was definitely a plus. And, I discovered that the higher I went above the ground the tighter she held me, so, obviously, we ended up going pretty high.
I was sent through a dream the rest of the night. I'm not even sure how long we stayed up in the air; all I know is that it was one of the best nights of my life. Hermione seemed to be in awe of everything around her and that just made my spirits float even higher than they already were. I never would have though something as simple as a broom ride would have made her as happy as it did. And when we finally landed, I couldn't have been happier myself.
I laid my broom back in the closet, and Hermione and I walked back to the castle. She again hung her head in a reserved manner and there I stood, watching her as she walked--up through the Entrance Hall, past the Great Hall (in which dinner was most likely over), up the thousand of flights of stairs, and down the Gryffindor corridor.
The common room was empty as we walked through it toward our separate doors. I didn't even think about bidding her goodnight or that my stomach was empty for the first time in six years. All that was on my mind was the feel of a warm blanket around me to stop my shivering. I just put my hand out to go up to that blessed warmth when suddenly--
I stopped my hand before it even reached the door handle and turned towards Hermione.
She was standing there, her hair wind-whipped, tangled and pulled in every direction. Her robes were limp around her and somewhat damp from the night air. She was even still shivering right to the bone from the cold that still hadn't yet left her skin. To get to the point--she looked bloody terrible… but still never less lovely than she had always been.
"I wanted to thank you… for making me feel better." Hermione smiled at me from across the room and I felt my knees tremble. I couldn't help it if her smile was gorgeous. Blame her parents if you must--they're bloody dentists after all.
"I don't know what I did exactly, but, er, you're welcome I guess." I shrugged and gave her a nice little half-smile I usually gave to people when I felt rather awkward about things. "Will you tell me what's wrong now?"
Hermione smiled and I finally thought, maybe, she might just tell me. I was finally going to learn what exactly was going on inside of Hermione's head! It was a miracle any guy would hope for. But sure as my hair is red, miracles don't always happen when you want them to. Or at least you don't realise it anyway.
"No," she answered flatly and, with a swift smile and a wave of her hand, she turned to the door to her dorm and pushed it open slowly. I stood there and watched her. Just before she turned the corner, she stopped and gave me that secretive smile I had seen only earlier that afternoon. "But, I might…maybe…someday… if you don't figure it out on your own."
She melted into the girl's stairwell and I slid up the stairs of my own dorm.
Maybe I didn't learn exactly what was on Hermione's mind that night, but I though about it all the way down the dorm hall and as I lay awake in my bed. No matter how many ideas ran through my head, though, I kept coming back to the same conclusion, the same one I decidedly tried my best not to even consider. 'I mean, this is Hermione I'm thinking about. And, technically, "that" and Hermione in the same thought was just plain weird. No…not weird. Maybe different. Yeah, that fit about right.
'But… could she possibly? Could it be? Hermione? What she had said earlier. Did she mean what I thought she meant? She hadn't really said if…What if she… Is it even probable…Hmmm…
'…Nah!'
I pulled the covers over my head and drifted off to sleep, deciding to think about it more the next day, possibly during Divination when I wouldn't have to look at her while I thought those "different" thoughts.
Hermione was my friend. She'd always be my friend. But you never know… maybe…someday…
(A/N) I've decided that since I won't be posting any long series fics I'd start a series of collective short stories. I know it may seem kind of cliqued but I've had this idea for quite a while. So yes, there will be no cliffies involved too often because the short stories themselves make up small 'frozen moments' or stories in Ron and Hermione's lives (and maybe even a few other characters POVs). If you'd like to know of the next update just subscribe to this and an e-mail will be sent to you each time I update. (But you probably knew that anyway right?) It should be a pretty good collection, as I do love these ideas that swarm my mind. So, as always, I hope you liked it, please review and until next time…
Love from Lizzie
