a/n: Wish you all a very happy new year! Thanks for all your patience and reviews.

I hate to make the updates so slow but unfortunately, writing stories don't pay my bills. My mental health too hasn't been great the past few months and I have struggled to get back.
Hope this makes up for the delay.

Will I abandon this? No, not at all.


Chapter 37: Proximity

Hermione woke up at the crack of dawn as always. She inhaled deeply, there was a marked chill in the air, and she snuggled deeper into the covers. There was something about the warmth and fragrance of the bed; it made her want to stay put. As the sleep slowly left her eyes she sniffed and stretched. The room ought to have an east view but the heavy curtains blocked the light effectively making it hard to figure out that the day had already begun.

She felt better rested than she had in a long while. Wiping away the sleep from her eyes, Hermione glanced to her left and found the spare pillow and hugged it close to herself. There was ample space left on the enormous bed which seemed to have been purchased keeping in mind the height of the owner.

She had fallen asleep waiting for him. And Ron had carried her here to his bedroom but she was pretty sure he never intended for them to share a bed or a room. And yet, in those precious few moments, she had seen for herself how their proximity had affected him; he was usually good at hiding that part from her. If not for last night, she would have convinced her ever-anxious brain that the yearning was from her end alone.

Where would they go from here?

Ron was pretty clear that he would take it slow this time. Rather, he was ensuring that she knew what she was getting into before they moved ahead. However, contrary to her curious self, she could not bring herself to hear him out. They had ended up together by a strange twist of fate. It almost felt surreal, as if a greater hand was at work. But they were at the very beginning of this new truce and no matter how much her heart wanted, she was worried about doing anything offbeat, fearful that it might break the charm, disrupt what they were slowly building back.

Hermione had only seen glimpses of how Ron had changed. But they were frightening. Who knew what dark secrets lay in his past? What could have changed him so much? She blew out softly - he couldn't have done something really bad, could he? He was Ron for Merlin's sake, she reminded herself. He wouldn't stray no matter what the provocation. But he was on an undercover mission… What if he had to do something nasty? She turned over, restless, and wrapped the blanket close for comfort as the panic grew. Fighting her inner turmoil, she traced her fingers tenderly over the woodside table which held a table lamp. Absentmindedly, she pulled the drawer open and was just about to close it embarrassed when something caught her eye.

Removing the cover hurriedly, she slid down on the floor and gathered all her nerves to look inside.

There were just a few articles. A bunch of letters tied together with a thread, a picture of hers back from their fifth or sixth year- the edges of the photograph were slightly tattered as if it had been held very frequently. His Deluminator sat at one corner and last of all, the familiar velvet case she had returned back to him. Her hand shook as she picked up the case and opened it, biting back a sob. She turned on the lamp while still watching the gold ring and picked it up between her fingers and tilted it to read the inscription - 'Always Yours…'

Hermione collapsed down fisting the ring in her palm, biting back memories and tears. She had craved this piece of jewellery for days now.

No precious stone, no matter how exquisite, was as priceless to her as this simple band of gold.

Sniffing, she placed it back in the case. In the end, it did not matter where he had been all these years, whether he had actually meant everything he said when he broke up with her, it did not matter what he had done as a part of his job as long as he was still the Ron who had slipped the ring on her fingers those many years ago. She chuckled sadly - was it rather pathetic that she loved him so much, despite everything he could have possibly done?

Swiping the back of her hand under her eyes, she picked up the Deluminator, tracing the device with her fingertips. She had banked on this to bring him back to her when he was lost. In the years while he was away she had called him multiple times, hoping the Deluminator would work its magic again. But as the years passed, the hope had dimmed. Perhaps the device had stopped working or maybe it worked only during the hunt? What if it was dependent on Ron's desire to return to her? During the most difficult days, she had even assumed that the Deluminator might have been working well all along but Ron might have ignored every single blue ball of fire that had appeared to bring him back to her.

She fisted the object in her hand, sobbing quietly. Looking back on the past few days she had spent with Ron, she somehow felt certain that he had not carried it along during his mission at all.

….

The early morning was overcast with dark clouds. In the living room, the couch was barely long enough to accommodate the man who slept on it. He was curled on his side, his Auror robes partly covering his tall frame while his fingers clutched at them near his chest, the fright of the nightmares showing on his furrowed brows and heavy breathing.

The cold in the room caused goosebumps to erupt in her arms and yet Hermione could not look away from Ron's face. He was breathing through his mouth in gasps and his eyes scrunched up, a fine peppering of sweat glistening on his forehead. Surely the empty bottle of Dreamless Sleeping Potion sitting on the table was not serving its purpose.

"No…" he muttered in his sleep, clutching his robes harder and she knelt down beside the couch, shaking slightly as she reached out to touch him. "Don't…" he cried and Hermione almost pulled her hand away worried that she was making his nightmares worse before he mumbled incoherently and repeated louder and she almost choked at how much pain his voice held. "Don't touch her…" he went on, thrashing a little now, breathing intensely. She swallowed thickly and placed her hand to cover his.

"Ron?" she called, choking on her words as he let out an audible cry, a tear leaking out of the corner of his eye.

"Hermione…" he muttered, grabbing her hand in his, still under the effect of the Sleeping Drought, unable to wake up. However, it neither kept his dreams nor his nightmares away. She reckoned Ron would have been taking the potion much too frequently and was facing the side-effects of prolonged use.

She sniffed, pursing her lips, fighting her own tears and placed her spare palm on his cheek, struggling to find her voice. "It's okay, I'm here…" she managed as she tenderly adjusted his fringe to the side and pressed her lips to his forehead, allowing her tears to fall.

Hermione sank down on the floor next to the couch and grabbed her wand to cast a warming spell around them. It was a long while before his breathing eased while he kept holding her hand. It was heartbreaking to find him so vulnerable; it was starkly in contrast to his ruthless Auror persona. She wondered how long he had been fighting the nightmares all alone. On one hand, she wanted to know everything but was she strong enough to be the support Ron needed her to be? He hid the trauma really well which made her worry that whatever he had faced had to be as bad as if not worse than their year on the run.

She stayed beside him until she was sure that the nightmares had finally ebbed. Finally, she picked herself up and made sure to pull his robes over him more snugly. She ignored the loud sound of the rain crashing on the glass frames as she made her way towards the study, quietly thanking Destiny or whatever force that had brought them back together.

It took her a lot of time to reign in her emotions and sort her head. And she focused on creating meticulous plans and schedules to fit in the umpteen number of tasks for the next couple of weeks, hoping to balance both work and the wedding arrangements. When she left the study an hour or so later, the house was still quiet. A quick look told her that Ron had settled down and was sleeping peacefully. She grabbed her clothes from her bag and tiptoed into Ron's bedroom, careful not to wake him, hoping to get breakfast started by the time he woke up. No matter how much she craved to spend the day with him, she still had to leave for work. And who knew what Ron's schedule looked like? She had waited for him to get back the previous night but exhaustion had taken a toll. Had they caught the culprits? She would only get to know when he woke up.

The rain had dulled and she pulled apart the curtains to find that the day was very overcast. If she hurried, she'd manage to meet Ginny on her way to work. There was no way she'd be able to do it all by herself. Moreover, Hermione had no clue how much Ron would be able to help, whether he'd be willing to help at all. She pushed away the last thought. She'd have to slowly start believing him, accept that he wanted this just as much as she did if not more.

Lost in her thoughts and fumbling around slightly due to change to place, she took more time than normal to get dressed. And by the time she walked out of his bedroom, she could hear the soft sizzling of sausages on a pan, heard the kettle that had begun to whistle.

Ron was not just up, he was standing in front of the counter with his back towards her. Hermione barely held herself back from rushing ahead and hugging him. He was still dressed in the light blue button-down he had worn to work the day before, the same one he had slept in. It was crumpled and was hanging out of his trousers. He had the sleeves rolled up till his elbows and was humming quietly to himself as he fried the eggs, prepared tea and watched over the sausages all at the same time. She smiled to herself and halted at the doorway, reclining against it to watch him.

She doubted Ron wanted her to know of his nightmares and if he wasn't willing to share, there was no point letting him know what she had found out. She did wish he would confide in her though, there was a time in her life when he alone could help her fight her nightmares. She remembered how Ron would spend night after night watching over her as she slept. She often wondered why he prioritised her sleep, over his rest. Now she knew why.

She shivered as a gust of cold air hit her and looking around, found the reason why the room was so drafty - the sliding door of the small balcony attached to the kitchen was wide open. She zipped up her jacket and rubbed the palms of her hands together and glanced at Ron. As always, he seemed to be less affected by the cold. Quietly, she went back to his room to grab a jumper for him, wondering how the house felt so warm despite the cold weather.

By the time she returned, Ron was already plating. She looked down at the deep blue jumper in her hands. It had a huge, white 'R' on it. Hermione remembered this Weasley jumper well; Molly had knitted it back during one especially intense winter while Ron was gone. At one point in life, Hermione had lost hope of ever being able to see Ron wear it.

"Hey," he called and smiled, placing their breakfast-laden plates on the table. It was rather silly how her heart skipped a beat at that smile, the way his hair fell on his eyes, the utter 'Ron-ness' of him being clad in an unbuttoned shirt that showed his inner vest.

"Aren't you cold?" she scolded, looking away when he met her eyes. They were both grownups, for Merlin sake! Wasn't 25 too old to feel so flustered? She handed him his jumper, his finger brushing against hers ever so slightly and she busied herself with the tea to hide her rising blush while she continued to watch him inconspicuously. She would have to get a grip on herself and get used to this new living arrangement.

"It's not very bad, is it?" he asked as he stripped off his shirt and threw it over the back of a chair and she groaned silently. He was surely doing this intentionally!

Ron gestured silently for her to sit as he proceeded to pull on the jumper. It was enormous but fitted snuggly over his wide shoulders but hung loosely over his otherwise lean frame. The colour suited him well, too well rather, she observed as he ran his fingers through his hair and pulled a chair for himself. She sipped her tea hurriedly just to divert her attention, but try as hard as she might, she could not take her eyes off him. Thankfully, Molly had never woven Ron blue jumpers while they were at school. As if she had fancied him any less even with those maroon coloured ones he received back then,

"I hope you aren't getting late?" he asked, breaking her musings, as he buttered her toast for her.

"I have some time," she replied, adding fried eggs to his plate. "What happened to the threat case?" she asked carefully. He did seem pretty relaxed; she took that as a positive sign.

Ron placed his cup down, groaning under his breath. "It was a hoax," he replied, grim.

"That's a relief," she replied, watching him. She hoped he wouldn't suggest postponing their wedding again. "So we don't need to panic, right?"

"We don't, however -" he paused, looking pensive.

"-however?"

"I don't know," he replied. "It isn't supposed to be very serious, just an over-elaborate intrusion into our personal space," he added bitterly. "It's a pity the good ones like Thomas and Matthew don't get credit while the ruddy bunch like Skeeter and Peter Rudd run the newspaper."

"I don't understand why our personal matters have suddenly become a topic of entertainment," she grumbled.

"I don't suppose it was easy for you all these years with us being-" he shrugged, "y'know-us, but am I making it worse for you now?"

"What makes you think so?" she asked softly. Ron looked rather miserable and she hated it.

"You've seen how she reports about me - you are simply guilty by association," he added in a small voice.

"Well, in that case, you should be the one to sue me," she chuckled. "Did you forget that it was I who kept her locked up in a jar and blackmailed her?" Normally, she wasn't quite proud of that move but those were desperate times. He laughed and as always, it lifted her spirits. "It has always been the same, Ron," she told him, meeting his gaze and not looking away. "We suddenly became these 'heroes' and people were curious to know everything about us. She and the likes of her just began to feed on that frenzy. I had hoped it would die down eventually but - "

"- But I came back and the curiosity spiked again, yeah," he exhaled.

"It's not your fault. You know how Skeeter is, Ron." Ron was back, and nothing else mattered, not even the false gossip or hoax threats. She looked at his hand and wondered if it would be okay to reach out and touch him.

"I don't quite understand," he mused aloud. "It's barmy. We just did what we had to do back then, didn't we?"

When he looked at her, it felt as if the intermediate years had not even happened, they were again seventeen, sitting huddled against each other in the Gryffindor common room couch right after the final battle. She smiled, biting back a sob and forced herself to get a grip. She did not have to explain herself, not to Ron or Harry. No one else other than the three of them could even fathom what their life was like. With Ron, despite everything and all the time, it felt like coming home.

"It's difficult, yes," she managed, sniffing before she spoke, "but to be honest, I have stopped caring about what they write about me. They don't understand that we too deserve our space and privacy. At times I wish I could escape- go off somewhere even if it is for a while."

He met her eyes and there was so much understanding in them as if he could read her, that she felt herself tearing up again at the intensity of his gaze. "Do you want to announce it?" he asked suddenly and she looked away to hide the onslaught of emotions that burst through her.

"I don't know. On one hand, it seems like the right thing to do but how do we do it? Have a press conference? This is rather personal, why do we even need to announce it to the public?" she added hurriedly, feeling rather frustrated and teary.

"We'll let them be," he said quietly. There seemed to be something else he wanted to say but refrained from voicing aloud but she was unable to decide what exactly it was. She also felt that he held back at the last minute from reaching out and clasping her hands in his. "Harry had it bad growing up, didn't he?" Ron mused sadly. "It's not so fancy being famous after all."

"I guess it isn't," she agreed.

He sighed, refilling her cup and his and glanced at his watch. "Forget it, I'll take care of it. Don't you worry." He sipped on his tea and grabbed a toast. "When will you get done with work?"

For a few seconds, she was mesmerised watching the way crumbs stuck to his lips before she managed to get a grip and look away. It was just like school, she had to remind herself over and over that she could not reach out and swipe a finger over his lips no matter how insanely difficult it was to hold back. "Not very sure," she replied, "There's a lot that needs to be done in two weeks. I have to catch up with Ginny," she fumbled, hoping that she sounded casual, but it was still hard to wrap her brain around the fact that she was planning for her wedding - planning their wedding. "What about you? Don't you have to leave for work?" she asked him.

"I have a few hours spare. I guess I'll get some stuff ordered for the house," he added quietly without meeting her eyes.

"I got some basics but we need to stock the pantry properly," she stated, gesturing behind her at the cabinets.

He nodded in acknowledgement. "What else do we need to do?" he asked.

"A fair bit to be honest," she beamed. "I planned a little."

" 'A little?'" Ron teased, chuckling, and she bit back her smile as she Accioed her journal and handed it to him. He took a while as he scanned through all her notes while he sipped on his tea.

"Is Jane fit enough to go shopping?" he asked, concerned as he placed the journal back on the table.

"I should get my dress from Muggle London," she told him, intently looking at her food and not meeting his eyes, "I hope to take both our mums and Ginny for that trip, and then I'm planning to wrap up the rest with Gin."

"Hmm," he replied just as quietly and Hermione found herself feeling a little down. None of her lists had his name as a companion. It wasn't to leave him out of it, she just didn't know if his crazy schedule would be able to accommodate it. But at least she had hoped he'd inquire about it.

They sat having their breakfast in silence as if both of them had suddenly realised how odd their circumstance was. Hermione wanted to ask a lot of things, tell him so much more. She wanted to clear her schedule for at least a week after their wedding and spend that time with him. However, she also realised that they were walking an unconventional path. True, they had their own moments of unexpected bliss but there was still a fair bit of uncertainty and anxiousness that was a part of their relationship. It would probably be smoother as time progressed but it was still too early to expect everything to be perfect and normal.

As a melancholy hit her, she finished her breakfast and picked up her plate and cup. Ron was still nipping on his toast. He had even pulled a couple of parchments that bore the Auror Department's seal and was reading through them. Sighing quietly, she carried the articles to the sink. She cleaned the stove area, wiping down the counter, obviously channelling her frustration into mundane things. Did he not care, she pondered, or perhaps he just wanted to hide it. But it did feel like they were walking in the right direction only until the previous night, what could have gone wrong suddenly?

So engrossed was she in her work and thoughts that she did not notice him come up and stand behind her and gasped when the scrubber was pulled out of her fingers. Standing right behind her, and encasing her in his warmth, he turned on the tap and placing his hand on hers, helped her wash and dry her hands, before turning her around to face him. And then, while her nerves were already on overdrive due to the intoxicating proximity, he lifted her up by her waist and sat her on the countertop. Suddenly his face was way too close and she sucked in a sharp breath. The room was cold but she wasn't sure why her face felt so hot.

"I'm planning to set up the other bedroom, Hermione." He did not look away and she found it hard to maintain eye contact. Did that mean he didn't wish them to share a room? Would the arrangement stand even after they were married? Was she being too greedy? Was she making him uncomfortable? Perhaps he wasn't keen to show her his vulnerable side?

"Why?" she asked. She sounded rather pathetic, didn't she?

He smiled a little and looked down but he was still close and she could see all those freckles along with the multiple faded scars on his face. " 'M worried I am overstepping my boundaries. Even right now, I am, aren't I?" He did not wait for an answer when he continued. "It's barmy having you so close and- and I don't want to mess it up." His gaze dipped to her lips and she noticed his Adam's apple bobble as he swallowed, blew out through his mouth and closed his eyes, placed both his palms firmly on either side of her on the counter, and swore softly. She caught a whiff of his hair and could have cried out in frustration. Ron rested his head against her shoulder and exhaled softly. "You're driving me crazy."

"Really?" she asked, her voice rather shaky, "You seem to be holding on really well," she added. Ron was doing this on purpose, she thought. But two could play this game. She decided she would not initiate anything no matter how frustratingly difficult it was. Well, hopefully, she wouldn't

He chuckled, his breath tickling her skin despite the layers of cloth and wool. "Am I?"

He did not wait for her response but helped her down before cupping her face with his left hand and rubbing his thumb tenderly against her cheek. "I'm going to be pretty tied up this week, and maybe even the next. Promise me you'll stay safe and make sure to let me know where you are, won't you? I'll arrange for security just in case."

She was glad (or not) when he let go, took a couple of steps back and ran his fingers through his hair before glancing at his watch. "I'll go change, you're getting late too." And with that, he hurried away. She took a step back and rested her back against the counter.

Ron was an idiot and she was doomed.

….