Disclaimer: I don't own anything, as much as I wish I did. Actually, I lie, I own Aunt Gretel. All characters (except Aunt Gretel) belong to J. K. Rowling. This fic is meant as a tribute to J.K. Rowling. In other words, I own nothing (except Aunt Gretel), I make no money, God bless Rowling.
Distraction
"I like you, 'Mione, but-"
"But that's just it, Ron. It's never been anything more than friendship and I want-," her voice faulted. "I want it to be," she finished softly, looking down.
"'Mione… I thought… I didn't know you wanted it to be more," he said, just as quietly. "When I say like I mean like… as in more than a friend," he said, placing his fingers underneath her chin and gently pulling his head up so he could look at her properly. She leant into his touch.
"Do you mean that, Ron?" she asked, looking into his eyes.
"Yes. More than you could imagine…" he leant instinctively towards her. He could feel her breath on his cheek, feel her hand resting ever so lightly on his arm. Their lips met, and Ron fell into ecstasy. He ran his tongue slowly across her bottom lip, asking – no, begging – for entrance. She allowed it, and his tongue slipped against hers, massaging it ever so softly. The kiss was just beginning to get ferocious, their tongues battling for dominance, when a knock came against the door.
The couple broke apart, their cheeks pink with exhilaration. Ron looked at Hermione, and blushed slightly. "I'd better get that," he said, and walked towards the front door of the Burrow.
When he opened the door, he was greeted by two very official looking wizards in expensive black robes. "Is this the Weasley household?" the wizard on the right said.
"Yes," Ron said uncertainly. "Can I ask who you are?"
"We are from the Ministry of Magic," the wizard on the left said. "My name is Richard Sturt and this is David Wright. We are from the Department of Death and Casualty Notification."
"The Department of Death and Casualty Notification? I didn't know there was such a thing," Ron said, looking between the two wizards with a confused look on his face.
"It was created shortly after the return of Voldemort and the beginning of the War. I'm afraid we don't have much time, Mr. Weasley."
"Oh, excuse my bad manners. Please, come in," Ron said, ushering them into the sitting room
"Who is this? Is she a member of the Weasley family?" Wright said, gesturing to Hermione, who had been watching them from the door.
"My name's Hermione Granger. I'm a friend of the family," she said, annoyed because they had interrupted her and Ron.
"Miss Granger, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to excuse us. I was rather hoping for a private chat with Mr. Weasley," Sturt said, glancing at his watch.
"Of course," Hermione said, and walked out into the kitchen.
"Now, we must get straight to business. I'm afraid we are a little low on time," Wright said. "As we mentioned before, we have some bad news." He looked at Ron. "You might want to sit down," he added.
Ron plopped into a chair, thoroughly confused now. "Bad news about what?"
"It concerns your parents. I'm afraid they have been murdered, in the course of their actions against Voldemort."
Ron stared at them in shock. What kind of sick prank is this? He thought.
"They can't be dead. They were visiting my Aunt Gretel. I spoke to them just yesterday," Ron said, looking between the two wizards sitting opposite him.
"They were not on holiday, Mr. Weasley. They were on an operation to eliminate three Death Eaters. Their bodies were found last night." Sturt said this with no emotion in his voice. If anything, he sounded bored.
Ron sat in shock. It couldn't be true. There was no way…
"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but we must be on our way. We have other matters to attend to. We offer our sympathy to you and your family. We wish we could inform the rest of the family, but that simple cannot be. We have pressing engagements. I am sorry." Wright said as he and Sturt stood up.
"Wait-" Ron cried, standing up also. There were millions of questions that needed answering. Who murdered them? Where were they found? Where are they now?
But the two wizards had already Apparated.
Ron walked into the kitchen feeling numb. He was greeted by Hermione, who was sitting at the table with a cup of tea.
"What was that about?" she asked, handing him the tea.
"Where is everyone else?" Ron said numbly, putting the tea on the table and slumping into a chair. He was deathly pale.
"Playing Quidditch. Why? What's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking concerned.
"Can you get them in here? There's something I have to tell them."
Five minutes later, Fred, George, Ginny and Harry were sitting in the living room, still holding their brooms. Ron walked in, having drained the cup of tea, and having regained some o his usual colour, but still feeling completely numb. Everyone stopped talking immediately when they saw him.
"Ron, mate, what's wrong?" Fred said.
"Yeah, 'Mione told us two Ministry wizards came before. What was that about?" George asked.
"The two wizards were from the Department of Death and Casualty Notification. They came to tell us Mum and Dad have been murdered." Ron said, tears welling up in his eyes.
That was followed by one of the loudest silences Ron had ever heard.
Ron walked outside a week later. It was the first time he'd been outside since he heard. Actually, it was the first time he had been outside his room since he heard. He walked towards the big oak tree in his back yard. He looked up at the tree house that was perched on the middle branches. It had been years since he had been up there. He started to climb the rickety ladder that was attached to the trunk of the tree. He soon reached the house. Immediately, the memories came back to him. Memories of him and his dad bringing wood up in baskets for the house, nailing everything together, and painting it. Memories of his mum, bringing him freshly baked cookies and eating them up here, as they lay on their backs on one of the upper landings, creating pictures out of the cloud formations in the sky.
The tears began to fall. He had not cried in his room, he hadn't felt sadness. He hadn't felt anything. Just numbness. Now here, up in the tree house, it all came back to him in a rush. It blasted through him like a rainstorm in the summer, emotion pouring out everywhere. He blindly stumbled into the tree house, and sat down on one of the makeshift chairs he had made from an old bale of hay. His tears fell as he let out everything he had kept cooped up over the past week. He did not see the person climbing up the ladder and into the tree house until she spoke.
"Ron?" The tentative voice broke through his tears. He looked up in shock to see Hermione standing uncertainly in the doorway. "Oh, Ron," she said, seeing his face, and rushed over to sit down next to him. She put an arm around his shoulders and took his tear-covered hand in hers.
"I just miss them so much…" Ron said, bringing about a fresh bout of tears. He buried his head in his hands, barely aware of Hermione's hand rubbing his back.
They stayed like this for some time, until Ron became more composed. He looked at Hermione. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. You shouldn't have to worry about me."
"Ron, I can't help it. You've been shut up in your room for days, barely eating. I saw you come up here, and I thought I'd follow, to make sure you are okay," she finished uncertainly.
"Thank you. You don't know how much it means to me."
"You can't expect to get over it straight away. These things take time," Hermione said consolingly.
Ron looked at her gratefully. "I need a distraction," he said, shifting his gaze from Hermione's eyes to her lips, and leant in slightly. "'Mione…" he whispered. He took a soft but steady grip on the side of her neck and pulled her a little closer until their lips met. She parted her lips slightly, and Ron took up the invitation and slid his tongue into her mouth. She opened her mouths lightly, allowing him to massage her tongue as she slid her hands up to his shoulder blades. His hands traveled to the small of her back and he pulled her close. They stayed like this for a number of minutes, until they slowly broke apart.
"That distraction good enough for you?" Hermione said softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"For now," Ron answered, and leant in to nibble on her earlobe.
"You know, what, 'Mione? I think I might be okay," Ron whispered, and leant back towards her mouth for another dose of 'distraction'.
FINA/N: Did you like it? I know it's not my best work but I had to write it. Please give me your ideas on how to improve it, or for sequels or whatever… thanks. And sorry about the 'no paragraphs' thing.My computer was being an arse and wouldn't put them in.I shall try again tomorrow. :-)
Oh, and I'm always open for ideas for stories, or if you have any stories you want me to write. It doesn't necessarily have to be Harry Potter, it can be anything. The only reason why I won't write them is if I don't know the book/movie/anime or whatever. I will email you if you submit an idea to let you know I am writing it.
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