For the Chudley Canon Fic Fest on Tumblr using the prompt 'cuddling'

Thank you to adenei for betaing this!


Safe In Your Arms

The setting sun over Hogwarts was not its usual beautiful, picturesque image that Hermione had once enjoyed watching. Tonight, it was dark. There was no joy from watching it slowly set. The sky wasn't an orange, or a purple, or even a dark blue. It was just black. Bleak and black, like how she felt.

She remembered sitting in this very room and peering out at the rolling hills and mountains and the still lake as the sky drifted between oranges and purples, before it eventually settled into a deep, starry blue.

Many nights she'd stayed awake to complete homework, or study, or go over notes to make sure she'd understood what they'd learnt that day.

Given what had just happened, it almost seemed laughable. What she'd give to go back to the simpler times where her biggest concern had been whether adding an extra sentence to an essay would boost her mark up to one hundred and ten percent.

She was tired. No, that was an understatement; she was exhausted. Drained of energy, surviving on the smallest amount of sleep, yet her brain ticked overtime as she relived every moment of the past twenty-four hours. This time yesterday they were sneaking into Hogwarts, readying to commence for the last battle. This time yesterday, she had no idea whether she'd even live to see the sunset tonight.

Many hadn't, but she had. She might not feel like it right now, but she was living, she was breathing… she was alive.

And so was Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna… they were all safe and well.

She'd come up to Gryffindor Tower without the notice of the others. They were too busy grieving for their fallen brother. She wouldn't have been surprised if she didn't see Ron or Harry until the morning, or perhaps the next morning.

After it had happened — after Voldemort had died — Harry had just about collapsed. He didn't speak, he didn't move. He just sunk against the wall and stared, speaking to no one.

Many times in the hours that followed, Hermione considered going to him. Did he need comfort? Did he need his friends? But she thought Ron was right. He said he thought Harry just needed time. So, time would be what she'd give him.

She'd spent some of her time helping to fix superficial wounds on students and others, but when she could do no more, she joined the Weasleys. The family huddled together, all with tears rolling down her cheeks. Even Ron, who she'd rarely seen cry before; even he seemed unable to control his emotions.

For a while, she sat with him, holding his hands to offer comfort. But he needed to be with his family, not her. So, she'd come up to the only other place that brought her comfort.

And there she'd stayed, watching as the sun sank lower into the sky until it disappeared all together. Soon, the first full day without Voldemort would be upon them. What were they going to do?

She'd just contemplated the idea of heading up the staircase to return to the bed she'd not slept in for over a year, when the sound of someone climbing through the portrait hole had her turning.

She knew who it was the minute she saw the tuft of red hair peek through the hole, and she couldn't help but smile a little. It was small, but it was a smile.

"Hey."

Ron looked utterly defeated. It was the first time she'd looked at him properly. His tears had dried up, but his face was covered in scratches he'd refused to let her heal. Dirt smeared every inch of skin, and his clothes were torn.

A real warrior, she couldn't help but think. He'd been amazing.

"Hey." The word came out choked and she realised she hadn't spoken in hours.

"I wondered where you got to." Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking the five steps he needed to reach her.

"I just needed some time to myself," she answered. "To think."

It seemed to be enough for Ron, for he nodded.

Hermione gazed up at him and their eyes locked for longer than what she'd usually be comfortable with. He'd always looked at her in a way that no one else had; as if he truly understood what she was thinking and feeling. He didn't always have the ability to express that understanding in a dignified way, which had frustrated her for years, but she knew that he got her. Better than most, anyway.

And maybe she understood him, too, because she knew what was going through his mind as they looked at each other. In the midst of all that had happened, with everything that had unfolded over the past twenty-four hours, she'd kissed him.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, something that she really hadn't put much thought into, but something she didn't regret. She'd wanted to do it for longer than she cared to admit to herself, and it had felt like the right time. If one of them were to die that night, at least they'd die knowing how the other felt.

Finally.

Staring at him with such intensity made her want to kiss him again. But she refrained, knowing that both of them smelt of blood and death. Nor did either of them probably have the energy to so much as bring their faces close enough to each other to actually do it.

It was Ron who broke the gaze, turning to the window she'd been looking out before he'd found her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

"No." It was the honest answer, but one he'd understand.

"Neither."

Hermione offered her hand to him, and he took it. She smiled, and he returned it, though it was pained. "I'm so sorry about Fred," she whispered. "I can't believe —"

"Yeah… yeah." He squeezed her hand, and then he tugged on it lightly. He indicated the armchairs by the fireplace that she, Ron and Harry had spent much of their time sitting in. She followed him willingly, both of them somehow managing to squeeze onto one.

She was rudely aware of how poorly he smelled, and then felt shameful over the fact that she must have been the same.

But he didn't seem to mind, for he placed an arm across her shoulders, drawing her to him. Her head fell against his shoulder and there they stayed. Hermione didn't know for how long, but she was woken to sunlight and the feel of calloused fingers running through her hair. And she was very, very warm.

Blinking, she lifted her head slowly. It was still just the two of them. Had anyone else come in? Were they in the dormitories? Or had she and Ron been alone the whole time, asleep and comforted by each other?

It then occurred to her how easily she'd fallen asleep in his arms. She'd laid her head against his shoulder and she'd been out… just like that. How safe she felt. How… loved.

She blushed at the thought, which seemed silly given all that had happened between them.

"Did you sleep?" she asked quietly, looking at him.

He nodded. "Yeah. A little." He was looking at her in that way again. Like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. Was now even the right time to talk about… them? It seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They had plenty of time to talk about them.

But all she could think about was how easy it had been to fall asleep beside him, and how she didn't want to ever lose that feeling.

She reached a hand to his cheek, running her fingers gently down it, feeling every bump, every scratch, every bit of dried blood. And her heart swelled with love for him. She loved him so very much, and wasn't now more important than ever to be with those that you loved… and who loved you?

Ron seemed to be thinking the same, for he lowered his face towards hers. She allowed his dry and chapped lips to brush against hers for a few moments before she kissed him back. His grip on her tightened, his free hand running up the side of her face, entangling into her hair.

There wasn't as much desperation this time. No fear that they might die, no thrill of the first kiss.

It was better.

When they broke away, slightly breathless, Hermione couldn't help it. She laughed, and so did he. It would take a long time to heal from this, but at least she had one small ounce of happiness to take with her. One that filled a big piece of her heart.

She settled back against his shoulder and he returned to stroking her hair. Soon, this peacefulness would disappear. Soon, they'd have to return to a reality that was far darker than the one that was on this armchair. But for now, this numbed all the pain. And it was what they both needed.

As she closed her eyes once again, feeling herself drifting into another peaceful sleep entangled in his arms, she heard him murmur against her.

"Don't let this be temporary, Hermione. I need you. I love you."

She was too tired to respond, but when she woke again, she'd tell him that she needed him, too.

And she'd tell him that she loved him.


I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!