Author's Note: I really can't understand why people feel so much animosity for Lavender (who amongst us hasn't been embarrassing when navigating youthful romance? And it wasn't her fault that her Ron saga got in the way of the epic Ron and Hermione romance) and I prefer to believe that a character survives unless there's incontrovertible evidence to the contrary. So in this chapter, I couldn't resist a glimpse of a happier future for Lavender, as well as a chance for Ron to exorcise the ghost of sixth year.
Hermione had some kind of planning meeting with the head boy after dinner, and Ron had arranged to meet her in the Griffindor common room after she'd finished. He walked to it with Neville, before Neville headed off towards the Hufflepuff tower looking rather bashful. Feeling weirdly like a ghost of his past self, Ron shrugged and went into the common room, wondering whether there might be the opportunity for a quick nap before Hermione returned.
Halfway through lowering his long frame into a plump and inviting arm chair by the fire - blimey, he was tired - he realised that there was someone sitting in the chair opposite. The figure was half-obscured by the back of the chair, which was positioned towards the fire, but he would have known the sleek blonde curls that seemed to peep coyly around the side of the chair anywhere. The figure suddenly seemed to realise that someone was there and turned her face towards him.
Shit.
By a hair's breath, Ron stopped himself from saying it out loud, but he certainly thought it. He froze half way to the chair, staring at Lavender. They'd seen each other in the aftermath of the battle, of course, briefly when in a daze of shock and grief Ron and Harry had seen Lavender's limp body being side-along apparated off to St Mungo's, and Ron had seen her from a little distance at several funerals since then. Ron knew that Bill had had a chat with Lavender after Lupin and Tonks's funeral, and given her his floo details if she ever wanted to talk about her encounter with Fenir. Ron hadn't got beyond smiling weakly in her direction on the few occasions when he really couldn't pretend that he hadn't seen her; and he reckoned that Lavender had been doing the same with him. That had been a great arrangement. But it clearly wasn't possible now.
Realising how ridiculous he looked half way between standing and sitting, Ron stood up.
Seconds passed. Somebody had to speak.
"Er. Um - hi, Lav. It's good to see you." It wasn't until Ron heard the formulaic words coming out of his mouth that he realised that they were true. Lavender looked well, and - before she'd seen him, anyway - happy. He cleared his throat. "I mean it. You look great. I'm glad you're okay." He risked a proper grin, meeting her eyes.
Hesitantly, she replied. "Hi, Ron. It's nice to see you, too, I suppose."
Ron gestured awkwardly to the chair. "Do you mind if I -?"
"No," Lavender said, almost as though she meant it. "Sit down. Are you - are you waiting for Hermione?"
The first awkward mention of Hermione was over. Ron smiled in relief, and nodded as he sat down. "Yeah, she'll be along in a bit. How're you? You look great."
He realised he said that before and hoped suddenly that she wouldn't misinterpret it. He was stuck by how much distance there was between them - how much there always had been, even when they'd spent most of their time with their limbs plastered around each other. He'd felt vaguely even then that it was weird to be physically so close to someone without feeling any closer to them as a person. Now, with Hermione, it was hard to remember at times where his body ended and hers began. The rhythms of her speech patterns seemed to ripple around his head even when she wasn't there, and the consciousness of her existence was like a continuous physical sensation, sometimes unnoticed, but always there. She had the power to surprise him - very much so, sometimes - but he knew her with his soul. He'd been a fool to ever dream of settling for anything less, and he knew it.
He forced himself out of these deep reflections, looked at Lavender and smiled tentatively again. Despite the unbreachable distance between them, he liked her. He always had.
"I'm okay, thanks. There's not much pain, even at full moon, not with the potions the healers gave me. And the scars are mostly on my arms and neck, so at least the Hogwarts uniform's the perfect outfit."
"Some of the coolest people have scars all up their arms, from what I heard," Ron grinned, gesturing to the brain scars which still snaked up his own arms, only half hidden beneath the light covering of red gold hairs.
"Yeah, I remember," Lavender said, not exactly smiling but not frowning either. Just as the pause which followed was becoming awkward again, she added, "It must be strange for you being back here."
"Same as it is for those of you here doing your final year, I s'pose. Though it was is really weird to be here without Harry. It's nice though, it feels like a chance to wash away some of the bad memories. Do things right that I got wrong."
Lavender bit her lip. "Like... like you and me?"
"I'd bloody well say so," Ron agreed, heartily. "I mean, some things you can't undo. But you know what I mean. Merlin's bollocks on a broomstick, I'd take that back if I could."
Lavender sat frozen in her chair, not looking at him. "Right," she said, in a cold, small voice. With horror Ron realised that she was trying not to cry.
"Shit," he did say it aloud this time, in a panicked voice loud enough to cause some third years playing Diagon Alley monopoly not far off stare at him curiously. "Bloody hell, that's not what I meant, Lav. Shit. Sorry. I meant - well, it's always been me and Hermione, you know? Always has been, always will be, and that's just how it is. I knew it, really. I was just a stupid coward. She knew it. I hate that I ever hurt her, but I also - I wish more than anything you hadn't got caught up in it, because you deserved a hell of a lot better. You should have been with someone who'd treat you right, miles away from me and Hermione working through all our shit."
"Hermione and I," came a slightly strained voice behind Ron, and twisting around he looked up to see Hermione herself standing behind him. He felt his heart beating fast with trepidation. They might have been made for one another and their souls in communion, but he couldn't imagine she'd be pleased to find him having a cosy fire-side chat with the girl whose name they usually avoided mentioning.
Swallowing, he met her eyes and they were warm like melted chocolate as she smiled at him. She turned the smile nervously to Lavender. "Grammar aside, I agree,"'she continued in the brisk and bossy voice she used when she felt embarrassed. Before anyone could say anything she dropped a chaste and only slightly proprietorial kiss on the top of Ron's head and said, "Sorry, that took ages. I've got to go and tell the other houses' prefects what we've agreed for next week, now. See you back here when I've finished?" He nodded, gratefully, and with grateful reverence he unconsciously touched the spot on his head where she'd kissed him as she bustled off.
Lavender stared at this simple, pleasant exchange. "How times change," she said, and finally she was really smiling. They sat in a comfortable silence for a time. Finally, she said, "So, how's Auror training camp?"
"It's bloody mental. They wake you up at half past five. Sometimes earlier if they're doing a pretend attack. And there's going to be a sodding exam at the end as well as the practical tests."
"So why are you smiling like that?"
"Well... it's brilliant, too. I mean, it turns out that a year on the run sharpens your wits and your reflexes pretty well, so quite a lot of it is pretty easy for Harry and me. And the stuff that's hard - I don't mind working hard when it's leading to something, something important."
"That's great, Ron. It sort of feels a bit the same here, now. You know, now that we're doing NEWTS and none of the teachers are psychotic..." They both laughed. "People are taking divination much more seriously, too, now they know about Professor Trelawney's prophecy and all."
"Goes to show what my mum's always said. Just because someone's mad, doesn't mean they can't be right." There was another comfortable chuckle. "Hey, that's a nice necklace," Ron gestured to a little silver rabbit with tiny ruby eyes hanging on a delicate chain around Lavender's neck, which Lavender had been absently playing with during their conversation.
"Oh, yes. Thanks. It was a present from a - well, he's one of the student healers who looked after me after the battle, but he's a friend now." Lavender blushed a bit but smiled happily and Ron grinned back. "Brilliant", he said.
"Hi," came a voice behind Ron again, "I hope you don't mind me -"
"Dennis!" Ron stood up and pulled Dennis Creevey in for a hug. They'd seen each other only a handful of times since the Battle of Hogwarts, but there was now a bond between them, as they both shouldered the heavy burden of having lost a brother. Ron and George and Dennis had sat up late drinking drinks for which Dennis was entirely too young together one night over the summer after they'd met at a memorial, and there was a deep peace for all of them in being with someone who so thoroughly understood. Ron and Dennis chatted at length about quidditch and the NEWTS courses that Dennis was taking, and it did them both good, though to an outside observer it probably would have seemed that nothing much was said.
The circle expanded so that by the time Hermione returned a large group of sixth and seventh years were sitting or standing around the fire, talking and laughing. Ron wasn't courting attention, or even doing most of the talking, but it was his easy-going, joking presence which had brought the students together and made them come alive. Coming up behind Ron's chair, Hermione gazed at his hair, seemingly brighter than the fire by which it was lit, and walked into the warmth of his company.
"'It's always been me and Hermione. Always has been, always will be,'" Hermione quoted back to Ron when they were finally alone late that evening, her eyebrows raised.
"Oh. I was wondering how much of that you'd heard," Ron grimaced, embarrassed. The he shrugged and said. "But so what? I mean, we've said that before, haven't we?"
"Not in so many words. Always is a long time, Ron." She stared at him intently as his ears and then his neck and finally his whole face went red.
"Yeah, I suppose it is. But - well, this can't be news to you, Hermione. What did you think I mean when I say that I love you? I don't know how to love you any other way but forever."
Hermione didn't speak and through his mortification the irony struck Ron that his conversation with Lavender was turning out not to be the most awkward that he would have that day.
"Okay," he swallowed loudly. "I didn't mean to make things weird. Let's pretend you didn't hear it, shall we? It's not like I was even talking to you, Hermione. Forget it."
"Forever's a long time, Ron, but it's not long enough." She was crying all of a sudden and, confused as hell but no longer embarrassed, Ron gathered her into his arms. He kissed her tears away at the corner of her eyes before they could fall.
"So - if it's not long enough then that means - you too?" It would have been suaver not to press for clarification but Ron was past caring.
"Of course me too, Ron. Even when I actively tried to stop loving you I couldn't. How could I ever stop in the future?" Hermione was still crying, but she was laughing too.
"What about when I get old and lose my looks?" Ron joked, even though his heart felt as though it were soaring higher than a seeker above a quidditch pitch. "My teeth'll probably fall out because I eat too many sweets and won't do that weird string thing that your dad's always going on about."
"I'll love you even more because it'll be hard for you to speak and you won't be able to argue with me as much. What about you? Will you still love me when I get old and fat?"
"I'll love you even more because there'll be more of you to love," Ron grinned. He was beginning to think they'd done enough talking and he put his hand in her waist, sighing only slightly when she spoke again.
"I'm almost scared by how happy I am, Ron."
"Yeah, me too."
"What if something happens to one of us?"
"Less likely now than at any time over the past seven years, I reckon."
"But what if it does?"
"Yeah, but, Hermione. What if it doesn't?" He'd never thought his would be the logic to compel her, but she found this unanswerable and at last launched herself whole-heartedly into his arms.
The next morning as they dressed for breakfast, Hermione said suddenly, "Another good thing about your chat yesterday Ron, as well as the revelation that your love for me is undying, is that I think things will be less awkward between me and Lavender. We don't interact much now I don't share a dormitory with the others, but we're in classes together and we've just been scrupulously polite and remote. We were never really friends but it'll be nice not to be so stilted."
"Yeah, I hope so," said Ron, a bit absently. He was watching Hermione dress. Dragging his mind back to the conversation he added, "I'm sure she appreciated the gesture of trust, when you left us to chat. I know I did."
"Of course," Hermione said. Smiling mischievously, she added, "I don't imagine you'd necessarily take the same view if you found me having a tête-à-tête with Viktor, though?"
"I've grown as a person, Hermione," Ron gave an almost credible impression of sounding offended. "I'd tell him what a huge fan I was of the dives he did in the Rilski Raptors' last game." He met her eyes and then shrugged. "All right, I'd break my hand punching him. But as a reflex, like, not because I don't trust you with my life and my heart." He leaned forward and kissed her softly, sucking gently on her lower lip before he pulled away and added, chuckling, "Besides, you forget that I'm still eighteen. If you will take a younger lover, you can't expect them to have the same levels of maturity as you." And he ducked quickly as she swatted him around the head with the particularly heavy arithmancy textbook that she kept on her bedside table.
