a/n: A thank you gift for all my readers for your wonderful reviews and all the love you give my stories. I hope you will like this too.
There was something inexplicably soul-stirring about her touch- no matter how innocent, no matter how fleeting.
Ron knew it always of course - the first realisation had been back in their third year when she had flown into his arms after months of not talking to each other.
But it hit him more powerfully now - after having almost lost his life, after a disastrous chance at romance that was only fueled by the need to prove his worth.
Lavender had only broken up with him a couple of days ago. Although he was relieved, the guilt of having dragged her into the mess still weighed heavy on his heart. Especially because while Lavender seemed genuinely miserable, he was at peace having returned where he truly belonged.
The soft sounds of their shoes clicking on the stone floor brought him to his present and he looked around. The moon was bright in the sky tonight, flickering in and out of view as clouds floated across the pre-spring sky. The moonbeams filtered in through the small windows high up in the ceiling, lighting up the otherwise eerily dark corridor. He wasn't quite sure why they were patrolling this part of the castle tonight; the Astronomy Tower and the neighbouring corridors were usually taken up by the Ravenclaw prefects on Tuesdays. But he was not going to question her choice of path or ask why they had deviated away from the usual route. He had sorely missed spending this alone-time with her all these months, and just having her close, walking beside him in the quiet of the night, in comfortable silence brought him more peace than anything ever had.
There was something different about Hermione tonight. She didn't seem to be her normal self - she mostly ignored the common classrooms where the rule-breaking students lurked, skipped the two tapestries that were famous for hiding couples. She didn't even take out points from the two third-years who were busy scribbling rude words in the History of Magic classroom. And now she had guided them to a place which was definitely not chalked out for their rounds.
He was just about to ask when there was the softest touch of her finger on his. He almost forgot to breathe and sucked in a breath. It was surely a coincidence. And then there it was again - just a graze of skin over his finger, the touch lingering just long enough to tell him that it was intentional.
Despite the quiet or perhaps because of it, he was suddenly inexplicably aware of every little sound, that of their perfectly in-sync footsteps, the faint rustling of the forest outside, the gasp that escaped his lips, the soft sound of her whimper… He stopped on his track and so did she.
Tentatively and praying with all his might that he was doing the right thing, he stretched his fingers just a little and as expected, they came in contact with hers. The tip of his index finger traced hers, once, twice.
In the six years of their friendship, they had shared many hugs. Held hands, bumped knees, teased each other playfully. But this was different.
Hyper aware of the faint sound of their breathing, and the feel of her soft skin against his rough fingers, he sought her out a little more, his fingers now touching the tips of hers, silently asking permission, begging to let him hold her hand. He could barely see anything, and yet he had never been so aware, so in the moment.
Her fingers curled just the smidge and her small hand was suddenly encased in his - and despite the innocence of the act, he knew this was something new in their relationship. The pad of his thumb traced her wrist and she sucked in a breath.
He slowly turned to his left towards her, not being able to make out much in the darkness as the moon hid behind a cloud but she took a couple of steps back - and he was only beginning to question if she wanted him to let go when there was that sound again - a soft whimper as if she was trying to cut down her sobs. Pain tore through him like never before. What had he done this time to make her cry that way? He would have asked but then she suddenly tugged him a little by the arm and caught him off-guard; he just about stopped himself from crashing onto her by placing his free palm against the stone wall behind her.
Her finger traced over his in the smallest of touches, he still couldn't see her face as she hung her head and this time when she whimpered again, he let go of all inhibitions and cupped her face with his free hand. Sure enough, there was moisture beneath her eyes. He swiped away the tear with his thumb before putting the smallest amount of pressure on her to lift her face and meet his eyes.
"Hurt you again, haven't I?" he asked in the softest of whispers. There was no one who could overhear them, not even a portrait but somehow it was important that only she heard his words.
She nodded her head in negative, her hair swinging mesmerisingly and sniffed and wrapped her fingers around his wrist while he swiped the pad of his thumb tenderly over her cheek.
This was beyond what best friends did. He had a girlfriend for a fair few months - he hadn't shared a tender moment like this even once.
"Are you still mad at me?"
She denied yet again.
"Are you scared?"
She met his eyes, and in the momentary moonlight, he could see her tear-rimmed eyes.
She mouthed a small 'no' this time.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He swiped his tongue slowly over his bottom lip before he found his voice.
"Did you… miss me?"
There was a small pause before she nodded once and suddenly he could feel moisture trickle down her cheek. The moonlight broke through the gap in the clouds again. As it filtered in through the neatly arranged windows, it cast long beams that fell on the wall in a stripe-like pattern through the length of the corridor, lighting up her features just enough for him to see. He let go of her other hand to cup her face with both hands and her fingers gripped him at his wrists as she closed her eyes, and bit her lower lip in an attempt to cut off another sob, while her body shook at the attempt.
"Why didn't you …" he managed helplessly. He hunched to balance their height differences and realised she had lost a fair bit of weight too. She felt smaller than before. Pressing his forehead to hers he exhaled wistfully before he moved away just a smidge to watch her. He took in her face, drinking in her features, swiping a lock aside and tucking it behind her ear and sniffed a little himself. Watching her in pain was excruciating - it felt as if his heart would rip out of his chest. "What can I do to make it better?" he asked when he had finally found his voice. "Tell me?" he begged.
"Dunno," she replied miserably as she let go of his wrists and grabbed the lapels of his robes and looked away, sniffing softly.
"Will you believe me if I say I missed you too?" he asked and felt like the admission lifted a weight off his chest.
She looked up at him, searching his eyes. He wanted to tell her it scared him to bits to think how much he missed her in the past few months, how much he longed to have her back. But it was hard to put in words. There was no other explanation for it - no lie that he could fool himself with anymore.
He was in love with her.
Perhaps for years now without even realising it himself. And to think he was the one who had made her so miserable… His fingers continued to caress her face.
"I would walk here all alone, you know?" she admitted slowly, as she let out a small, bitter chuckle. "No one came here, no one got to know if I cried."
Ron cursed himself under his breath. He took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves, swaying on the spot, torn between pulling her into his arms and letting her go because he couldn't possibly deserve her. "Why don't you hate me?" he asked.
"How could I?" she answered quietly, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second before looking away, her fingers tracing over the Gryffindor logo on his chest. "I've loved- " she broke off abruptly. Ron couldn't breathe. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to himself, while the other continued to cup her face, the soft curls at the back of her head tickling his fingers.
"Hermione?" he called softly, once he had managed to gather his wits.
"Hmm?"
"Will you let me kiss you?"
Her eyes snapped up at him as she let out the smallest of gasps and then her cheeks flooded with colour. He was utterly thankful that the moon had not flitted back behind the clouds.
She nodded just once. And with his heart thudding madly as if he was doing this the very first time, he touched her lips gently to hers, before moving away to look at her face. She was clutching his robes at the chest, eyes closed and breath coming in gasps. Relieved, he inched closer again, and pressed his lips on hers, his eyes fluttering shut as he placed the smallest and most innocent of kisses and then just revelled at the sensation by lingering in that position for a few more minutes. He could feel her heavy breathing, flushing cheeks and slightly shivering form. If he could he'd slow down time to hold on to these moments.
"You okay?" he asked, brushing a curl away.
She swiped her tongue out and wet her lip before nodding a smidge. "Mmm-hmm" she added weakly.
He pressed his lips to her again, this time carefully pulling her lower lip between his, sucking on it. She paused for a few heartbeats and mimicked his action as if learning from him - and just like always, learning well. He let go soon because somehow these fleeting kisses were way more mind-bogglingly intense than anything he had done so far. Hermione's fingers had found his lapels again and were clenching it in her fists. He pulled away because his heart was thundering in his chest, begging him to slow down.
"I -"
His wristwatch beeped at that instant, shattering the quiet, signalling it was past 11 O'clock and time to return back to their dormitory. Hermione opened her eyes slowly, face crimson.
"I-we we should head back…" she suggested haltingly, and he let go of her unwillingly.
The walk back to the Gryffindor tower was quiet but not because there was nothing to say - quite the contrary in fact. Ron had to use all the self-restraint he possessed to ensure he didn't pull her behind a tapestry. It was imperative that he took it slow, that he proved himself to her first. Proved that he deserved her love. They met the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff prefects on their way, and the portrait of the Fat Lady was in view at the far end when he stopped on his tracks.
Hermione turned at him, curiously. In the light of the torches that shone in their brackets, he could see her much more clearly now, but he longed for those precious few minutes he had left behind.
He walked over to the tapestry that hid a passage to the third floor and looked at her. She glanced between him and the gaping hole in the wall before silently walking inside. He followed suit, the heavy drapes falling back in place and hiding them from view.
"Lumos" he muttered and stuffed his wand in his pocket, the light from it lit the passage in a dim glow.
He inched closer to her, encasing her between the wall at the back and him in front. Gathering all the Gryffindor courage he possessed he took her right hand in his, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles.
"Take your time," he said at last. "I need to earn my way back to you -" he cut off her protest by placing his fingers of his other hand on her lips, momentarily losing track of what he was planning to say, swiping his thumb over them before gulping thickly and pulling his hand away. " - I really do." He took her free hand in his, watched their entwined fingers as he continued. "I know you've been thinking about this all this while," he chuckled before the melancholy hit his words, "You've been wondering how to fit this- us- with Harry and the Horcruxes and everything else. I -I just want you to know that I'll wait. And I am okay with whatever you decide."
"You mean it?" she asked.
"Mmm-hmm."
She placed her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around the small of her back, sighing deeply.
He'd wait but he wouldn't stop loving her no matter what she decided, he promised himself.
