Invisible Scars
I just want to thank all of you for your amazingly kind words regarding the passing of my friend. I would also like to thank you for taking the time out to review my work. It really is the only motivation I have to keep working on this. Keep reading, and keep reviewing!
Chapter 2 – A Time for Confessions
Hermione had been right. As usual. After his conversation with his sister, Ron felt much better about things. He knew now why she'd been so quiet and reserved all summer, and he understood how she felt about what they all were going to be facing sooner than they were prepared for. They had come to a tentative understanding of things, and although Ginny still looked hurt that she wouldn't be included in the impending adventure, they recognized each other's positions on the matter and considered it closed.
Ron was preparing to join Hermione downstairs when Ginny stopped him at the door.
"Ron, I've been meaning to apologize to you," she called out, causing him to turn to her with a confused expression on his face.
"What for?" he asked.
Ginny looked chagrined as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Last year, when you and Harry caught me and Dean in the corridor," she said, shrugging to hide her obvious discomfort at bringing up the subject with him, "I was really angry with you for getting all big-brother. I never meant to take it as far as I did, especially in front of Harry."
Ron felt the grip of embarrassment take hold over him so swiftly that he didn't see it coming. To hear how 'practiced' everyone else was while he himself had never kissed a girl had been the main reason he'd gone after Lavendar in the first place. It had been the reason Hermione had refused to speak to him for over half a year, and the reason they were back to square one now.
Still, he couldn't fault his sister now that they had patched things up. She was apologizing, after all. Besides, there were so many other things to worry about now; the row almost seemed silly in comparison.
"S'okay," he said, reassuring her with a small smile. "I shouldn't've said anything about you and Dean in the first place. You're old enough to make up your own mind about things, and I guess that has to include boys and such." The effect of the statement would have been stronger, he realized, if he was able to say it without grimacing.
Ginny must have realized this as well, for she laughed at his expression and shook her head. "I'm glad you think so," she said, bemused.
"Yeah, well, I better get back to Hermione," he said, trying his best to shake the image of his sister dating a string of blokes from his mind.
"Actually, that's why I apologized in the first place," Ginny said, giving him another embarrassed look. "Hermione. I hadn't realized that she had asked you to Slughorn's party. If I had, I never would have brought up Viktor Krum. I did it to hurt you, because I knew how jealous you get whenever his name is mentioned." When he flinched slightly, she raised an eyebrow. "See?"
"Whatever, Ginny. It's over, and I accept your apology," he said, hoping the conversation was over. He hated hearing that great oaf's name.
Ginny grew quiet for a moment, then stared at him so intently that he felt as if he was rooted to the spot.
"I mean, it must have taken a great deal of courage for her to ask you in the first place," she said casually. "After all, you two being best friends and all, it was almost like a date."
Ron's heart began beating in an unnatural rhythm. The thought had crossed his mind, of course, but he'd worked hard to convince himself that she simply took pity on him because he was the one being left out of things. If it had been an actual date…
"Of course, I had to ruin things for you and tease you about your inexperience," Ginny said, shaking her head at her own behavior. "Because of me, you started snogging Lavendar, and Hermione had to watch as the guy she trusted most in the world took her invitation and tossed it back in her face. It must have been mortifying for her."
The unnatural rhythm turned into no rhythm at all. In fact, he could barely breathe around the tight constriction of his chest. Hermione had been courageous enough to make the first move, and he'd spent the week snubbing her because of Krum and kissing another girl right in front of her face as often as he could.
If he hadn't known it before, he knew it now. He was the world's biggest git. On top of that, he didn't deserve Hermione. Even if she ever forgave him for his tasteless behavior, he didn't know if he could forgive himself. He had known, on some level, that he had hurt her last year. What he was only starting to realize now was how much.
His shoulders sagged of their own accord, and he slumped against the door. "Why is she still friends with me?" he asked sullenly. It was a question he had asked himself a thousand times in the past, but now he really needed an answer.
Ginny apparently took pity on him, for she crossed to where he stood and leaned up against the door next to him.
"She's still friends with you because she cares about you," she said, nudging him with her elbow. "She's still friends with you because you've always been there to protect her and stick up for her when others tried to take her down. You accept her for the brilliant, bossy, stubborn person she is, and you never want anything more from her than for her to be herself."
Ron huffed, but otherwise remained silent. A million thoughts were zipping about in his head, and they all consisted of times when he'd fought with her or made her upset or angry. Their relationship was so rocky that at times it barely resembled a friendship. How was it possible that they were still together, after all that had passed between them?
"You know it's not too late, don't you?" Ginny asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Too late for what?" Ron asked gloomily. Visions of violent rows in public were swarming before his eyes.
"Tell her why you snubbed her after her invitation to the party. Tell her why you took up with Lavendar in the first place," Ginny explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "Most of all, tell her you're sorry."
"Do I have to?" he asked, suddenly terrified that Ginny was expecting him to have an emotional exorcism of all of his feelings with the one girl he was avoiding being emotional around. "I mean, we're actually getting along just fine right now. She's not angry with me, so bringing all of that up would kind of mess things up for no reason."
Ginny sighed heavily, much like Hermione did when she was tired of trying to explain something to him. "She may not be mad at you, but she probably thinks about this quite often. You were carrying on with someone right under her nose for the better portion of a year, Ron. How would you have felt if the situation was reversed?"
He didn't even want to think of it. When Hermione had announced her date with McLaggen for Slughorn's holiday party, he had seen red for the rest of the day. He wasn't able to concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds, because visions of Hermoine wrapped in another guy's arms infiltrated his every thought. His body had been so tightly wound all day that he had finally taken his broom out to the pitch to fly for a solid hour before he felt even half-human again.
Even now, thinking of some faceless bloke putting his hands on her caused his own hands to ball into tight fists at his sides.
"I get your point," he said resignedly. "What if I talk to her after the wedding?"
"Why wait?" Ginny said quickly. "Why not ask her to go to the wedding with you?"
Ron stared at his sister with a blank look. "But she's already going, Gin. Wouldn't that be a bit redundant?"
Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation and pushed away from the door. "Bless that poor girl," she said under her breath. Turning to face him, she pinned him against the wall with her gaze.
"Ron, if you ask her to the wedding, even though she's already going," she added with another roll of her eyes, "it serves as a gesture. You know, she asked you the first time – which didn't go all that well – and now you're asking to try and make up for things."
Ron considered his sister's words carefully. Could he do it? Could he ask Hermione to go to Bill's wedding with him? Just the thought caused his mouth to dry up and his still balled up fists to start sweating.
"I'll think about it," he finally managed. He was saved from any further thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. They grew quiet in case it was Hermione, but their mother peeked her head around the doorframe a moment later.
"There you two are," she huffed slightly. "Why on Earth are the two of you hiding away up here when Hermione's downstairs all alone? Is that any way to treat a guest?"
"Hermione's not a guest, mum," Ron said, thinking how weird that sounded. Hermione had been coming to their house for so long that she seemed like she just naturally belonged at the Burrow.
"She most certainly is," their mother scoffed. "That's beside the point, anyway. I need you two ready to go in about ten minutes," she said, searching in her bag for something. "We're going to Diagon Alley to pick up your robes for the wedding."
"Do we have to go?" Ginny asked, her face pulling tightly into a look of annoyance as it had become accustomed to doing at the mere mention of the big day.
"Of course you do!" Mrs. Weasley barked, leaving no room for argument. "You have to try them on to make sure they're perfect, and then you have to pick out shoes."
"Can we stop by Fred and George's while we're there?" Ron asked, realizing it had been a very long time since he'd seen his brothers. The last time he'd talked to them was at Dumbledore's funeral…
Something in his mother's face softened a bit, and she almost smiled. "I suppose we could if we get everything else done quickly and with as little drama as possible," she conceded. "Now, get going so we can leave."
Hermione couldn't help but be amused as she watched Ginny and Ron suffer through their final fittings for the wedding. Ginny was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at the seamstress as she fixed the hem with her wand. Hermione didn't quite understand why Ginny was so miserable; the robes looked amazing on her. They were of a soft, shimmery golden material that floated about her as she turned this way and that. Hermione smiled to herself when she thought of Harry's reaction to his girlfriend – well, ex-girlfriend – striding down the lawn of the Burrow in the summer sunlight.
Ginny, however, didn't look as if she was harboring any such thoughts about her appearance. She was now scowling at the top of the seamstress' head while the older woman prattled on about the right shoes to wear to accentuate the robes.
"I'm wearing my trainers," Ginny mumbled, earning a severely reproachful look from her mother, who was hovering only inches away from the mirror in front of Ginny.
"You will do no such thing," Mrs. Weasley affirmed, and, considering the matter handled, turned her attention to the curtain behind which Ron had not yet emerged.
"Ron, if you'd wanted to see your brothers, you'd be out by now. Stop this foolishness and come out of there!" she beckoned, none too gently.
Hermione heard him groan loudly before obeying his mother a moment later and appearing from behind the curtain.
She allowed herself a moment to freely look him over. She figured that she'd been good up until now and deserved to treat herself to a good, long look. Besides the fact that his face was screwed up into a disapproving fashion, he was simply dashing.
The robes were of a simple black material, as were all the robes of the Weasley men, but somehow, Hermione didn't think they'd look half as good on any of the rest of the lot as they did on him. His set was trimmed in an intricate silver, and was fitted to his frame quite perfectly in her opinion.
In the robes she could see, just as she had when she'd entered his room earlier that day, the expanse of his broadening chest and the strength of his shoulders. Somehow, she knew that she would never badmouth Quidditch again.
His eyes met hers, and she looked away quickly. She could feel the heat on her face and willed it away.
"Oh, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said in a soft tone, "You have never looked more like your father than you do right now."
Ron made a face, and Hermione guessed that the compliment went over his head. She laughed, which was probably not the best thing to do.
"I told you," he grumbled, his hands moving as if to rip the garment into shreds. "I look ridiculous, don't I?" He glanced at his sister and the scowl lessened a bit. "Wow, Gin, you look great."
Ginny shot him an evil look before grinning wickedly. "And you look like a vicar."
Hermione sat back and watched as the Weasleys began a heated argument of insults and retributions in the small confines of the shop. By the end of it, only she and the seamstress looked as if they would be speaking to one another.
Twenty exhausting minutes later, they exited the shop and headed for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Hermione noticed that the streets were uncommonly empty for this time of day over a summer holiday. In fact, she began to feel the absence of others very acutely as they made their way past the shops. Usually Diagon Alley was teeming with people of all ages, hustling to and fro between the assorted shops getting everyday errands accomplished. Now, however, there only seemed to be about a dozen or so people besides themselves out and about.
Hermione gave an involuntary shudder, and she caught Ron looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
"A bit spooky, isn't it?" he said, nodding at the desolate stretch that lay before them.
She nodded, not in the least surprised that he could sense exactly what she was thinking. They made a quick stop at Ollivanders to drop off their wands before continuing on their way. Both she and Ron had decided that it was wise to get their wands thoroughly cleaned and checked over before going off with Harry in a couple of weeks. The thought further served to depress her and Hermione found herself staring blankly at the cobblestones laid out under her feet.
By the time they'd reached the twins' store, she was ready for any silly experiment the twins could throw at them. She needed to feel something other than the sense of imminent doom that had shrouded the once lively little town.
"Well, look what we have here!"
George's voice greeted them the moment they entered the shop. Mrs. Weasley went about kissing her sons and fussing over the length of their hair before Hermione had even cleared the doorway.
"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Fred asked, extracting himself from his mother to give his sister a playful tap on her nose.
"Fittings for the wedding robes," Ron muttered, swatting George's hand away from his hair. "And don't think you two are getting out of it. Mum says you have to go after work."
"Already went, dear brother," George exclaimed, bowing to his mother. "After all, her wish is our command."
Mrs. Weasley looked as if she wanted to say a million things in that moment, but settled on, "Well then how about I just trim a bit with my wand while we visit…"
"Hermione!" Fred exclaimed, choosing to ignore his mother's pointed comment as he took up her hand in his. "As always, a vision of loveliness," he proclaimed, kissing the back of her hand soundly. Hermione giggled, fighting to extract her hand.
"Every time I think you two can't possibly get any sillier, you go and prove me wrong," she said, as George took up her other hand to kiss it.
"We Weasley men simply have manners, my dear girl," George insisted, shooting Ron a short look. "Well, most of us."
Ron scowled at his brothers openly as he moved closer to Hermione's side. "And some of us have a gag reflex," he said.
Fred's eyes danced as he shot George a mischievous look. "See, George, and you said he was too thick." George shrugged and released Hermione's hand.
"So, little brother, guess who was in here just last week," he said, waggling his eyebrows at Ron. "One Ms. Lavendar Brown, but I'm sorry to say that the bloke who was with her was most decidedly not you."
Ron shrugged noncommittally, which made Hermione's pulse begin to race wildly. He seemed thoroughly unaffected by this news, and it made her happier than she'd been all afternoon. "So?" he said, staring blankly at the twins.
George looked mildly surprised for a moment, but then his eyes swept over to Hermione and he grinned at Fred. "I take it back. Looks like the lad finally wised up."
Mrs. Weasley called to her sons just then, leaving Ron and Hermione to stand there in a mildly uncomfortable silence. Ron was glaring at his brother's backs, and Hermione took the opportunity to study him again. If he really didn't care that Lavendar was running about with someone new…
"Why I wanted to come here is beyond me," Ron muttered, moving past her and walking down the center aisle.
"They're your brothers and they make us laugh," Hermione reasoned with him, walking along with him. "Besides, you needed something to cheer you up after your robe-fitting."
"So it was really terrible, wasn't it?" he asked, an embarrassed look flashing across his face. "You can be honest. I did look like a vicar, didn't I?"
Hermione laughed, and immediately realizing that was the wrong thing to do, she stopped. "You looked nothing of the sort. In fact, I thought you looked quite handsome."
He gave her a disbelieving look out of the corner of his eye, but she noticed the faintest of smiles on his face. "Whatever. At least I only have to wear them once."
George walked up to them then, motioning Ron to follow him. They walked to the very back of the store and Hermione could see a small metal door partially hidden behind a tapestry.
"I don't want mum to know about our secret room," George said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "We have quite a few inventions back here that won't properly introduce themselves into polite society."
Ron perked up immediately, and although she had a bad feeling about it, Hermione followed. Within the small room, there were multitudes of shelves stocked with more than Hermione could take in at one glance.
"There must be hundreds of things back here," she said, looking up to the ceiling only to find that where the proper ceiling should be, there was nothing but loaded shelves for at least fifty yards up.
"We've been mighty busy," George confided. "Now that You Know Who has made his move, we've realized that novelties and toys weren't the only things we were good at making. There's loads of stuff back here that might be useful to anyone who needed a hand here and there." He gave them both a pointed look. "I suggest you two take a good look around and I'll keep mum distracted. Maybe I'll set a Shrieking Snafflewegg loose for a couple of minutes."
"By the way," he added, turning around suddenly and searching them with his eyes, "did you two lose your wands?"
"They're getting checked out at Ollivander's," Ron replied, deeply engrossed in a box that didn't seem to have any lid or opening.
Hermione wondered at the playful look that sprang into George's eyes, but she assumed that he'd try to sneak fake wands onto them at some point in their visit and turned her attention to a particularly long chain with a pyramid fastened to it.
"Well, you two just have yourselves a grand old time, then," George purred as he exited the room and pulled the door firmly closed behind him.
They busied themselves for several minutes with the gadgets on the bottom shelves. Neither spoke, but it was a comfortable silence born from years of friendship. Hermione had just discovered a shiny pair of what appeared to be ordinary cufflinks when Ron swore loudly and jumped away from the wall he was examining.
"What is it?" she asked, alarmed at the terrified look on his face. Knowing the twins, it could be just about anything.
"Spiders," he replied, his voice growing hoarse and strained. "Must be a dozen of 'em."
Hermione looked past his shoulder and saw that there were indeed about a dozen tiny spiders crawling over the shelf and into one of the inventions. She pulled his arm and switched places with him, positioning herself between the spiders and him.
"There. Feel better?" she asked.
He shook his head and turned for the door. "I think I've had about enough for the day."
He turned the old knob on the rusted door, but it didn't budge. He tried again, grunting a bit this time from the effort he exerted. Still nothing.
Suddenly Hermione knew exactly why George had asked them if they had their wands. "I don't believe it," she said quietly, as Ron instinctively reached into his back pocket for his wand.
"Bloody hell," he swore, coming up empty. He glared at the door as if he could tear it down by the sheer will of his anger. Then he whipped around to face her. "Still think they're amusing?"
"Ron, it'll be fine. Your mum will begin to wonder where we've gotten off to sooner than later. She's been watching us like hawks all day," she reasoned gently.
"I wouldn't bet on it," he grumbled, turning again and raising his fist. "But she sure as hell will come if I start pounding on the door like mad."
Hermione reached out to grab his arm before he could drop his fist onto the door. "You don't want to get the twins in trouble, do you?"
"What do I care if mum chews them out for a solid year?" he exclaimed, gesturing around him. "If you hadn't noticed, we're locked in a room about the size of a closet, with who knows what crawling all over."
Hermione sighed and tugged on his arm to bring him away from the door. "The twins are infuriating, but they have a point. We will need all the help we can get to do what we're going to do this year. Maybe they really have something that will be of some use, and if your mum finds all this, she'll probably turn it in to the Ministry."
Ron finally ceased his struggles with her and sank back against one of the walls, sliding to the ground. "What was it like being an only child?" he asked morosely.
She smiled at him and took a seat on the floor across from him. Their knees were almost lined up the room was so narrow. "You wouldn't want to be an only child," she said assertively. "Very lonely business."
Ron closed his eyes, leaned his head against the wall and sighed. "Sounds wonderful."
"So did you find anything you thought might be useful to us this year?" she asked, searching the high shelves with her eyes.
He shook his head. "I don't know. None of the stuff had directions with them, and I'm not stupid enough to try anything without knowing what it does first. Learned my lesson well enough last year."
Hermione was instantly transported back to the moment Ginny had run up to her to tell her that Ron was in the hospital wing and that it didn't look good. Her chest constricted so tightly that her vision blurred, and when it cleared, Ron was studying her face.
"What is it?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.
"Nothing," she said, cursing the small confines of the space. He could always read her, and at this close proximity, she didn't have a chance to hide anything.
"Don't say that," he argued lightly, "you just went as white as a ghost."
Hermione took a deep, steadying breath and knew that she had two options. She could lie and explain it away with something as flimsy as a fear of enclosed spaces, or she could tell him what it had been like to see him lying in that hospital bed, unconscious and pale.
She shrugged slowly, averting her eyes to the locked door. "I was just remembering what you looked like in the hospital wing," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "It was pretty scary."
His eyebrows raised slightly at her words. "Was it really?"
"Of course it was," she said forcefully. "Seeing one's best mate lying unconscious in the hospital is not something anyone wants to see. Wasn't it scary for you?"
He considered her words. "Well, not really. I mean, when I felt my throat closing up that was terrifying, but once I couldn't breathe I don't remember anything. The only thing I do remember is Harry shoving something down my throat and yelling a lot." He paused, looking as if he was traveling back to the exact moment. He scrunched up his nose at the memory. "That bezoar tasted bloody awful from what I can recall."
"I don't care how it tasted," she asserted in a low voice. "It saved your life."
"Yeah, well, that and Harry," he said, staring at the wall above her shoulder. "And you, too," he added, his voice dipping slightly.
"Me?" she asked, surprised. "What did I do?"
A smile creased his face briefly. "All I could think about was how furious you'd be with me for eating something I knew I shouldn't have touched…how long you'd yell at me for being so stupid. I couldn't miss a row like that, could I?"
She stared at him as if he was completely out of his mind. "Are you kidding me?"
He shook his head and laughed. "Nope. Hey, don't knock it. I survived, didn't I?"
"You are unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, causing him to laugh again.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
They lapsed into a silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Ron cleared his throat and began pulling at a loose thread at the base of his t-shirt. "Speaking of last year, there's something that I've wanted to clear up with you."
Hermione's breath caught in her chest. Somehow, she knew what he was going to bring up, and she didn't think that talking about what almost happened between them in an enclosed, intimate space was the best thing.
"I say leave last year where it is. It's not healthy to dwell in the past," she said quickly, shifting on the floor uncomfortably. Ron's gaze swung up to meet hers, and she saw an expression in them that she couldn't quite figure out.
"I don't think so," he said evenly. His tone was so definite and final that she knew there would be no dissuading him. She sighed inwardly and prepared herself for the onslaught of emotions that would surely bombard her once he began speaking about Lavendar and the disastrous year they suffered through because of her.
He cleared his throat again and his expression changed to one of mild discomfort. "Last year, Harry and I caught Ginny snogging Dean in a corridor and I kind of lost it," he said, scowling slightly at the memory. "She wasn't too happy about that, so she started in on me and how little, uh, experience I had compared to everyone else." He trailed off for a moment, the look of discomfort growing rapidly across his features.
"Let's just say I didn't take it all that well," he said in a low voice, averting his eyes to the wall again. "So when Lavendar started paying attention to me, I just thought that maybe it was my turn to, you know, be with someone."
Hermione forced herself to attempt to breathe normally, but it was very difficult seeing as how her chest felt as if was being squeezed in a vice. She couldn't help but wonder if they had gone to the party together, if she would have been the one he would have shared his first kiss with.
"Why were you so mean to me before that, though?" she asked, wondering how she had even had the presence of mind to form a coherent sentence at this point.
His eyes darkened intensely, although he still wouldn't look at her. "That's the other part I wanted to apologize for," he said quickly. "Ginny mentioned how you and Krum…"
He didn't finish his thought, however, and took to staring even harder at the wall.
Hermione closed her eyes briefly. She wished that she'd never encouraged Viktor's attentions to her back in her fourth year. All it had done was create misunderstandings between her and Ron that had lasted a lot longer than the short relationship with Viktor had. They were still friends, of course, but perhaps that's all she should have sought with him in the first place. Still, to be fair, she allowed herself, back in fourth year she wasn't as sure as she was now that she fancied Ron as much as she did. She was young, inexperienced, and a popular and attentive Quidditch star had wanted to be with her. What had been so wrong with what she'd done?
"Look, I'm not making excuses," he finally continued, although his voice had not yet returned to normal. "I'm just saying that you know how I've always felt about him, and to hear that you and he had…well, I guess I didn't handle things all that well." He tugged especially hard at the thread he'd been playing with and it gave way with an audible snap. "I'm sorry for how I acted toward you afterwards," he said apologetically.
"It's in the past, Ron," she repeated. She pulled her knees into her chest almost as a protective barrier between them. Her heart was racing out of control now, her head swirling around all the missed possibilities and possibilities yet to come. She was so confused, and it wasn't helping that they were only mere inches from each other.
"I know it is, but I really would have liked to go to Slughorn's party with you," he said, his ears reddening slightly. "I blew it by taking up with Lavendar, and I'm sorry for that, too."
Hermione felt as if there were a million live snakes writhing about in her stomach. He had wanted to go to the party with her. He was sorry. He wasn't dating Lavendar anymore. Could this be his way of initiating things? Was she finished waiting for him to be ready?
She studied his face carefully, and forced herself not to look away when he finally met her gaze. They stared at each other for a moment, in which the air in the small room became charged and heavy with unspoken sentiments.
Suddenly, his eyes widened, and his face became pale. In the next instant, he was kicking out against the wall she was leaning against, and she turned just in time to see an enormous spider fly from the top of his trainer to the wall and get ceremoniously squashed under his flailing legs. She let out a nervous laugh, which felt good amid the tremendous tension that had sprung up between them.
Her laughter was cut short, however, when the shelf above her began to shake from the force of Ron's feet against the wall, and a large, heavy, wooden artifact fell atop her head and caused her to shout out in pain.
Ron's eyes immediately left the squashed spider and the color rushed back to his face as he sprang to his knees to get closer to her.
"Are you alright? I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, trying to move her hands away from the back of her head to look at the spot where the heavy object had struck. She fought back the sting of tears that had leapt to her eyes, and tried to nod her head. This only caused her to let out a small gasp of pain that had Ron forcing her chin up so she would look at him.
"Let me see," he said gently, finally succeeding in moving her hands away from her head. With one hand he cradled her face as the other searched the back of her head for signs of a serious injury. She watched his face through watery eyes, not so hurt that she missed the look of gentleness that was displayed across his face as he set about his business.
It was not lost on her how close they were now. She was pinned against the wall by his body, which was edging closer with every second he inspected her wound. His neck was exposed as he strained to see the back of her head, and she wanted nothing more than to nestle her face in the crook between it and his shoulder and stay there forever.
With her emotions already spiraling past her control, she watched his face in mild fascination as he ran his fingers over her hair softly.
"I only feel a small bump," he said, his hand brushing her hair back into place. "You're not bleeding, so it didn't break the skin." He dropped his hand from her face to her elbow, cupping it protectively as he settled back on his heels and searched her face. "Are you having trouble seeing or anything?"
"No," she whispered, realizing that she was seeing exceptionally clearly for the first time in a long time. He was still looking her over for any signs of injury, but when he appeared to satisfy himself, his gaze flickered back to hers.
Their eyes didn't waver from each other's as they both realized how close they were sitting. Ron's chest began rising and falling more quickly, as did Hermione's when she saw his head drop the slightest fraction of an inch closer to her.
She forced herself not to move. She wasn't going to back away this time. Whatever happened would happen, and she would deal with it later. Still, it didn't help matters when his eyes darkened and focused on her mouth. Every muscle in her body called out to her to bolt, but she remained rooted to the spot. The only thing she couldn't control was the impulse to bite her bottom lip in nervousness.
Ron's eyes flashed and his hand began to move slowly up her arm. Hermione's eyes began to drift closed of their own accord, and she found herself floating in a haze somewhere between reality and every daydream she'd had for the better part of a year.
She was sure that any moment she'd feel Ron's mouth against hers. Which is why she practically came out of her skin when she heard the grinding of the rusty door as it was yanked open from the outside.
Ron sprang to his feet with an agility that impressed her, considering the circumstances. He stood face to face with George, who wore an expression of infinite glee openly on his face.
"Mum heard a crash," he said, looking over the small space quickly to assess any damage. Then he turned to face them with sparkling eyes. "So, did you two find anything productive in here?" he asked cheekily, ribbing Ron with his elbow. Ron's eyes narrowed at his brother as he extended his hand to Hermione to help her up.
"For your information, your damned inventions came crashing down on her, and if she's got a concussion, I promise you I'll destroy every last one of them," Ron spat, shoving George to the side.
George let them out and locked the door behind them before touching Hermione's shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, all signs of playfulness gone from his face.
"I'm fine, George, although I don't think it was very funny to lock us in there," she chastised lightly. In truth, she wanted to grab George and kiss him soundly for forcing the two of them to finally face each other without distraction.
"I know. I'm sorry," George apologized, patting her softly. "I'll make it up to you. Anything you two need from in there, you take free of charge."
"We don't even know what any of that stuff is used for," Ron argued, not nearly as easily assuaged as Hermione. "It all looks like a pile of rubbish to me."
George looked extremely offended, but then smiled at his brother. "I'll tell you what. Come back when Harry gets here, and Fred and I will close down the shop and give you lot a demonstration of it all."
Ron appeared incredibly wary of this gesture, but Hermione agreed and began walking toward the front of the shop. Ron caught up to her halfway up the aisle and stopped her.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes focused on hers. "Do you want some ice or something?"
"I'm fine for now," she said, her hand automatically going to the back of her head. "I'll just take it easy when we get back to the Burrow and put some ice on it there."
Ron nodded and looked over to where his mother and Ginny were examining a crate of expandable pocketbooks. "Um…I wanted to ask you something," he said, suddenly looking as if he had swallowed a whole fistful of bezoars. He cleared his throat and continued, shakily. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to the wedding."
If the ground had opened up underneath her and Voldemort himself appeared out of the gaping hole, Hermione would have been less surprised than she was right now. "The…the wedding?" she asked, stumbling over the idea of being invited to a wedding that she was already invited to.
Then, with much more force than the falling object in the back room, Ron's question came crashing down on top of her. It was a gesture. In fact, it was the gesture. She had asked first; now it was his turn. And he had risen to the occasion brilliantly.
She found herself smiling at him with almost uncontrollable happiness. "I would love to go to the wedding with you," she said softly. His expression slid from one of nervous tension to relief so quickly that Hermione laughed.
"Alright then," he said, smiling at her. "It's settled then."
It sure was, she thought to herself. They had taken that invisible first step, and hopefully this time, there would be no misunderstandings stopping them from taking the second one.
This is so not over, so don't think that we're done here. Much, much, much more angsty goodness to follow. Harry will arrive in the next chapter toward the end, and we have stuff to do with him and Ginny. Ron and Hermione are going to start trying to figure out just exactly what a relationship would be like for the two of them. Oooh, I'm getting so many good ideas. I'm excited about this, and I hope you are too! Keep reading, and I hope everyone is happy, healthy and safe.