A/N - here we go, writing without a canon storyline to stick to. Should be fun, right?
P.S. I'm sorry if the times and days are confusing in this chapter. I read it over and didn't get confused, but gathered that that would make sense seeing as it was me who wrote it. Hehe.
Chapter 29 - Let Me In
Hermione took a moment, as she leant against the large tree, enjoying the May breeze, reflecting over the last several days.
She couldn't describe it, really. It was as if all coherent thought dissipated when she thought about everything. From the morning she awoke for the third time in Ron's Gryffindor dormitory bed, feeling closer to him than ever before, to this moment whilst they sat mere centimetres away from each other on the grass, yet feeling worlds apart.
At least, that's how she felt. Honestly, she couldn't even wager a guess at how Ron was feeling. Once it had been established by Bill and Mr Weasley that the Burrow was indeed safe to return, the family decided to head straight back rather than stay at Hogwarts any longer. Hermione mused that it was probably rather difficult to grieve freely when in a castle full of so many other people, who by no fault over their own, didn't really understand how the Weasleys were feeling. Especially when seemingly hundreds of people were eager to speak to Harry, and even herself and Ron.
Coming back to the Burrow felt strange; it had always felt like Hermione's second home, but now the house seemed cold and significantly emptier. The family didn't stay close that day. George, and Mr and Mrs Weasley had vanished to their respective rooms, Bill and Fleur had spent the day contacting Fleur's family, Charlie helped Percy move back into his room, although not many words were shared between the two brothers. As for Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny, they stayed in the living room, Hermione and Harry feeling more awkward and out of place as ever before. In fact, Hermione wondered, for about the fiftieth time, if she should even really be there. Which is why she decided to voice that matter later that same evening.
Their first night back:
"Hermione, of course you're staying," he said incredulously, as they began unpacking Hermione's beaded bag.
"Ron, I really appreciate it, I do, but you and your family need each other, and I will absolutely not come in the way of that," Hermione admitted sadly, feeling helpless.
"You're not gonna be coming in the way of it-"
"Ron," she said, pausing her unpacking to look at him imploringly, but it was only met with a confused expression.
Ron stopped, too, and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What's all this about?" he asked softly.
Hermione licked her lips, looking nervously around his room. Ron waited patiently. "I still- I still get the nightmares, Ron. No matter how hard I try, I-" she paused for a breath. "I still get them," she resumed in a quiet voice. "I still get them, and I will not burden anyone else with them anymore. You don't deserve that." At this point, she had finally looked up to Ron's face, which was studying her closely.
"I don't know how I can make you believe this, but what happened that night, was not your fault, okay? And you have never, ever been a burden, Hermione. I will be here for you no matter what. Just because the war finished when it did, doesn't mean that yours did," he said, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "We'll get through this, no matter how long it takes, we'll go find your parents and bring them-"
"We?" Hermione interrupted.
Ron began to look quite sheepish. "Well...well, yeah. Y'know-if-if you want me to, that is…"
Hermione shook her head playfully, standing on the tips of her toes and flinging her arms around his neck. "I love you so much," she all but whispered, before standing again on the balls of her feet. "But, I can't ask you to step away from your family like that, and I can go-"
Ron rolled his eyes and gave a great sigh. "You really are mad sometimes, do you know that?" he chuckled.
Hermione laughed, too, before returning to her serious demeanour. "I'm being serious, Ron. You and your family are your main priority. Not me, understand?" she asked, pointing a finger at his chest.
"Mm, I make no promises," said Ron, pulling her in closer and leaning his head down towards hers. Hermione would've reprimanded him, but found that she, too, longed to feel rather than think, believe it or not. So, instead of arguing any more, she let his lips claim hers.
That following morning, Hermione awoke peacefully, smiling to herself with the relief of a nightmare-free night. Her smile widened once she realised whose arms she had wrapped around her. Before she allowed herself to drift back off to sleep, an unmistakable chain of meows became louder and louder from the hallway, until she could feel the bottom of the mattress sink with the weight of her ginger beast.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered, as not to wake Ron, before stroking her cat whom she hadn't seen for ages. Her fury friend purred happily, sitting as close as physically possible to Hermione without smothering her face completely.
A groan came from Ron, who Hermione assumed was still asleep.
"Oh, Crookshanks! Just how I hoped you'd barge into my room and come sit on my face," he grumbled sarcastically.
Hermione laughed, "well, I missed you," she said, as her cat made himself comfortable at the end of Ron's bed.
Ron stretched, before planting a kiss on Hermione's cheek and flopping back down to the mattress. Hermione turned to face him, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek. "You okay?"
Ron nodded. "You?"
"It still feels relieving yet strange to wake up knowing that we aren't running for our lives, or looking for another Horcrux," she mused, looking around the familiar, orange walls.
"Yeah, I wonder how Harry- owwww!" Ron yelled, looking down at his feet to find Crookshanks staring evilly up at him. "Bloody git nearly bit my foot off."
"Sorry," Hermione winced, although she had to simultaneously suppress her laughter. "But, as you were saying, Harry probably feels quite odd, himself. I wonder where he slept last night," she said guiltily, looking over Ron to notice that Harry's bed was indeed empty. Maybe they should have taken more consideration when they walked all the way up, past Ginny's room, up to Ron's last night, Hermione wondered.
Ron grimaced, "to be honest, I'd rather not think about it."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't think your mum would've liked our altered sleeping arrangements last night." She felt as though they were massively disrespecting Mrs Weasley; Bill and Fleur couldn't even stay together until they were married. Yet here herself and Ron were, Ron only in his boxers, and she only in one of Ron's t-shirts and her own knickers.
While she was lost in thought about how they had just broken one of Mrs Weasley's most valued rules, Ron had climbed to lie over Hermione, however he was using his elbows to hold him up rather than crush her completely.
"Reckon Mum's got bigger things on her mind than who was sharing beds last night."
Hermione looked at him, his hair ruffled from sleep and his voice husky from waking up.
"Oh, Ron, of course! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disregard that, I just supposed that's what makes it all worse. We should be there for your mother, not upsetting her possibly even more by doing something she wouldn't approve of," Hermione reasoned, brushing the fringe from his sleepy eyes.
Ron looked out of his window in thought before coming back with an answer, allowing Hermione to admire his wonderful eyes. "Well, last night you were there for me," he answered simply.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. He knew full well that what they were doing last night, as lovely as it was, probably wouldn't be a good enough excuse for his mum's rules.
It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes as he buried his head in Hermione's hair. "We didn't do anything that bad. Just snogging."
"Just snogging? Well, it's nice to know that it meant so much to you," she teased, playing with the hair at the back of his neck.
Ron groaned. "Do you have to try and outsmart me first thing in the morning?"
Hermione was about to retort when she heard faint giggles from the outside of Ron's door.
"Ginny? Harry?" Hermione asked confusedly. Ginny's head poked around the door, before snapping her eyes shut.
"Ugh! Could you remove yourselves from each other before we enter, please, and Ron better not be naked!" Ginny warned with disgust, and Hermione smiled at the resemblance to Mrs Weasley in her tone.
"Sod off, Gin," Ron called, but Hermione tapped him on the shoulder until he got off of her and laid back down on his own side, all the while grumbling phrases like, "it's my bloody room. Ginny has her own."
Hermione sat up, bringing the quilt up to cover her legs and Ron's chest.
"You can come in."
Ginny cautiously, yet dramatically, walked in, opening her eyes carefully.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Ginny, we get it, you don't know what sex is," he said in a false-sympathetic voice, which quickly turned into a laugh.
Hermione glowered at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "Ron! We did nothing of the sort!" she all but shrieked.
"No, Hermione, he's right. Harry, maybe you should come back downstairs with me and, perhaps, teach me, with the door wide open?"
Ron's laugh quickly faded into a face of angry horror as he gaped at his sister.
Harry's discomfort was obvious as his face went pale as he stood awkwardly between the two siblings. Ginny had her arms folded across her chest with a smug smile.
"You know, Harry and I don't really appreciate being used as collateral damage during your spats," Hermione chimed in, wearing a smirk of her own.
Ginny sighed before walking over and sitting down on Harry's camp bed, which was still set up from before they left all those months ago.
"So, what were you giggling at before you came in?" asked Hermione.
"At the fact that that was the second time we had caught you bickering since you have been...well...y'know…" Harry trailed off.
But, to be honest, Hermione didn't know. What were they? Both her and Ron seemed to waste no time before acting as if they were in a relationship once the war had finished; they were in the same bed right now, after all. But they hadn't actually talked about what they were. The whole idea seemed a bit silly to Hermione, they had already confessed their love for each other, wasn't it obvious what they were? Weren't they just automatically boyfriend and girlfriend? Well, actually, that sounded even more silly to her. She became frustrated with herself; they had bigger things to worry about. But did they? Ron probably was the biggest part of her life from now. But was there a 'from now'? Oh. She couldn't take t
"Sorry," Hermione winced, although she had to simultaneously suppress her laughter. "But, as you were saying, Harry probably feels quite odd, himself. I wonder where he slept last night," she said guiltily, looking over Ron to notice that Harry's bed was indeed empty. Maybe they should have taken more consideration when they walked all the way up, past Ginny's room, up to Ron's last night, Hermione wondered.
Ron grimaced, "to be honest, I'd rather not think about it."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't think your mum would've liked our altered sleeping arrangements last night." She felt as though they were massively disrespecting Mrs Weasley; Bill and his.
Ron seemed to detect the awkwardness and Hermione's jumbled thoughts, as he subtly reached a hand, under the duvet, and squeezed her thigh, before continuing to stroke it as the conversation resumed.
Maybe he shouldn't have been doing it in the presence of Harry and Ginny, but Hermione found that, quite frankly, she couldn't care less, and - as much as she loved them both, dearly - was suddenly hoping that the two wouldn't be here for much longer.
Once again, Ron seemed to be able to read her mind. "So, what do you pair want?" he asked.
"Lovely as always, dear brother," Ginny sighed playfully, before her manner changed. "Actually...we-um, well, firstly, we wanted to ask you how you both were," she began.
Hermione looked at Ron for assurance, before turning back to Ginny and replying. "We're...alright. How about yourselves?"
"The same. I guess. Every time I feel myself becoming too overcome with grief, I try to imagine what Fred would've wanted, after the war was won, and it definitely wouldn't be us all moping around after him."
"Ginny, it's only been two days, you're allowed to feel-"
"Don't worry, Harry's been telling me all the same. But I don't want to remember Fred by sobbing every time that I think of him," Ginny explained.
Hermione looked uneasily between the three of them, she highly doubted that suppressing her grief was the best thing for Ginny to do. But, she was in no position to tell her how to grieve her brother.
"A-Anyway, we also came up here to tell you that the Ministry has sent us a letter," Harry said, changing the subject after watching Ginny worriedly. Ron and Hermione looked at him as if encouraging that he continued. "Kingsley's Minister for Magic now," he said happily. "But, he's already asked us to pay him a visit. He said that we can take as much time as we like, but-"
"We'll go whenever you want to, mate," Ron answered.
"Thanks, because I was hoping we could go sooner, rather than later."
Hermione and Ron nodded, and Ginny and Harry made to get up and leave.
"Right, well I'm going down for some breakfast. See you guys later," Ginny said, and left the room.
Harry hung back. "Don't tell her I told you this, but she's actually quite fragile, despite that speech she just gave. She's just trying to be pragmatic for the rest of your family, I think," Harry explained, nodding to Ron at the last part.
They both nodded understandingly at Harry, and he left as well, making a pointed notion of closing the door.
"Wonder what Kingsley wants," Ron thought aloud.
"A number of things, I imagine," Hermione replied absently, sinking lower on the bed.
Ron rolled over on to his side, half covering Hermione's body. "You know that it's never 'just snogging' to me, right?" he asked, referring to their conversation, before it had been interrupted.
Hermione nodded and smiled, kissing his nose.
"Because the fact it's just with you means everything to me," he continued, and Hermione watched with a smile as he reassured her. "I mean, if all you ever want to do is 'just snogging' then that would be fine!"
"Really?" Hermione asked disbelievingly, tracing his scarred shoulder with her finger tips.
Ron only nodded confidently in response.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him. "Well, I'm sure you'll be glad to know that, no, I don't want to stick with 'just snogging' for ever," she answered, laughing at his face as he tried not to show his relief. "And, after all those months of hearing just how talented you are with your mouth and your hands, I suppose it's only fair that I get to conduct my own research on the matter," she teased.
Ron hid his face in the crook of her neck and groaned with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he winced, "I had no idea she went and bloody talked about it with you in earshot."
"It's okay, don't apologise. I cast a silencing charm most of the time, so the times I was listening, I was just doing it to myself," Hermione reassured. Much like the Yule Ball, they hadn't really spoken about Lavender.
Ron lifted his head to look down at her, propping himself up on an elbow. "I was an idiot then, I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Stop apologising, Ron. It wasn't your fault that you didn't reciprocate how I felt, in fact, you didn't even know, so…"
"I did! That's the thing. Well - I didn't know that you liked me like that, but that's how I felt about you!" he stated with desperation.
"Really? Even while you were with Lavender?" Hermione asked quietly.
Ron nodded. "Reckon those few months made my feelings clearer, if anything…" he mumbled, but Hermione could still hear him. "Guess I was a git to two girls that year," he admitted, awkwardly scratching his neck.
"You've only just now worked that out?" Hermione scoffed incredulously.
Ron shrugged, "I don't know," he whined.
"You, Ronald Weasley, are insufferable," Hermione mocked, before pulling his head down to hers and bringing their lips together.
Things became heated as tongues intertwined. Hermione didn't think she'd ever feel as light as she did in these moments, as far-fetched as it possibly sounded. Her fingers wound in his soft hair, causing him to groan, and her to smile against his lips.
Ron's hand found its way under his already bunched up t-shirt that Hermione was wearing. Hermione found that she didn't mind the callous roughness of his hand in the slightest. Enjoyed it, even, as she shivered under his gentle touch.
His lips left hers only to begin a path down her jaw, her neck, making her whimper as he found particularly sensitive skin.
They were very unfortunately yanked back from oblivion by a displeased Crookshanks, walking up to the pillow that Hermione's head was on, wagging his tail disapprovingly as if he had a concept of what was going on. He let out a loud meow which caused Hermione to jump.
"That bloody, fucking, cock-blocking cat," Ron grumbled under his breath, his head residing in what Hermione assumed was his new favourite place; the crook of her neck amongst her wild curls.
Hermione just laughed, reaching behind her to scratch a grumpy Crookshanks, while her other hand stroked down the back of a grumpy Ron.
The first full day of getting 'back to normal' consisted of going back to Hogwarts and helping with finding and identifying bodies, along with rebuilding the school. It wasn't easy. In fact, Professor McGonagall was highly against the idea that her, Ron and Harry came back to help. But the three of them were adamant that they would.
There was a particularly difficult moment where Hermione and Ron were nervously walking around the grounds in search of any more bodies, when they found a fallen pillar, with two fallen first-years underneath it. Ron held Hermione as she sobbed for them, her upset only escalating as the young, fallen faces reminded her of everyone else that was lost during the war.
Thankfully, it didn't take long for Hogwarts to be mostly restored, and the following days were spent exclusively at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley, despite her struggle, seemed determined to feed and look after her family as well as she always had. Everyone was more than eager to help, insisting that she sit down and let others do things for her, but one sudden outburst from the grieving mother about how she was doing it and that was that, shut everyone up and they allowed her to carry on.
Hermione admired the family's courage, as they all sat around the dinner table, each trying as hard as the other to maintain pleasant conversation, in hopes that no sad silences were left in the air. Even George would join in at times, but it was significantly less than the rest of the family members.
Each Weasley was obviously grieving in their own way. Despite what she had said up in Ron's room, Hermione could tell that Ginny wasn't coping at all well - or at least as well as she would've liked to have showcased. Her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks gave her away, and Hermione would often just stop and hug her, if they passed each other in the hallway. Hermione would have no idea why Ginny was trying to hide the fact she was sad. Her brother died, for heaven's sake, she was allowed to feel down about it.
As the family had gone into hiding, the Burrow hadn't been lived in for several months, which meant a deep clean was in order, as organised by Mrs Weasley. The tidying tasks managed to keep everyone preoccupied for a couple of days, although the atmosphere was inescapably heavy without the jovial face of Fred to complete their family.
Hermione was quite eager to help in any way she could, so didn't at all mind the spring cleaning they endured. Although, no matter what task she had been set, her absent thoughts had always led to Ron. She had never managed to spend much time alone with Ron during the summers in such a bustling house, but that's when they were only friends and she had to pretend that it really didn't bother her. But, now they were - whatever they were - and she was allowed to admit to wanting to spend time with him. Not just for her own sake, but she promised herself that she would be there for him, and she was hardly keeping that up as they worked in two opposite places of the house.
Her and Harry had remained in their properly assigned beds for the nights that followed the first, as they both had no intention of going against Mrs Weasley's back. But, their respective days, when they had the time, were spent with their respective Weasleys.
Although, Hermione was beginning to feel slightly unnerved by how much of a front Ron was putting on when he was around her. It pained her to see the ghosts of tears on his face and his puffy eyes, she only wished he would open up to her; let her in.
Besides, it wasn't at all like Ron to not let his feelings show. Well, apart from his feelings for me, Hermione mused with a small smile. But, typically, Ron was almost never implicit with his emotions. Anger, annoyance, sadness, glee, excitement, cheer, Ron could demonstrate them all loudly without thinking twice about it. But now, he was different.
Most of the time they spent together consisted of snogging and sleeping in each other's arms, but when they were awake and, well, focused, Hermione would always try and find out how he really was, but every time, it was met with a non-committal 'fine' and a quick change of topic, by asking Hermione how she was.
It wasn't that Hermione didn't completely admire how much he cared for her, but the truth was she was getting a lot better. Yes, she still had nightmares, but the truth, albeit quite sad, was that she was getting used to them, and was able to muffle the sounds of her tears into her pillow quite well, as to not disturb Ginny. But frankly, Hermione wasn't all too bothered about herself. She was determined to provide Ron with the shoulder he did her, when she was broken and frail, and she couldn't understand why he wouldn't let her.
And, now, as she sat under the tree, five long days after the Battle had commenced and finished, Hermione looked over to her right and watched the man she loved.
They had visited the Ministry today with Harry. It was still a strange experience to walk through a building and have everyone turn their attention towards you, as if you were wearing nothing but the skin you were born in.
Harry seemed rather oblivious to it as he strode through the Atrium. Hermione reasoned that it was no different for Harry, having experienced that his whole wizarding life. Hermione, for one, didn't really love the attention, and as she looked over to a rather uneasy looking Ron, she imagined he was feeling much the same.
Kingsley was wearing a wide smile when he greeted them, in his new, Minister's office. After the pleasantries were shared, Kingsley got straight into business. And it was quite a bit. They firstly discussed all of the funerals that the Ministry were arranging, Kingsley cautiously broached the subject of Fred's funeral, but Ron assured that his mum would want to plan that herself. They then went on to discuss what on earth they say to the press. News reporters had travelled around half the globe to pry any information they could, the thought only unnerved Hermione. There wasn't a single part of her that wanted to delve into what had happened in the last year, especially thinking of the inevitable questions about what exactly they were doing and why it took the time that it did.
Fortunately, Kingsley had devised all sorts of plans to keep the media away and their privacy kept. And that's how they landed on the subject of Aurors….
Hermione was utterly flabbergasted that Kingsley was truly offering them all places in the Auror department without the essential NEWTs, but then again, they had overcome more in the last year than most Aurors would in a lifetime. Hermione politely declined. She had every ambition of returning to school and finishing her education. And frankly, after the past few months, she couldn't think of anything worse than throwing her life at the sharks again. Actually, she could think of something worse, and that fear was definitely confirmed as she glanced at Ron's lit up expression.
She knew he had wanted to be an Auror for a long time, and she had no doubt that he would be brilliant. But that didn't quell her fear as much as she could have hoped. Could anything? If Ron became an Auror, Hermione was pretty sure she would spend every minute of her life worrying about him. But, was that any reason for him to not pursue the career of his dreams? Regrettably, not.
Kingsley was enthused by Ron and Harry's eagerness to join. Kingsley told them that they would begin the training process in Autumn. That part caused Hermione to sigh with relief. At least they could spend the summer together, before they both went off to do separate things. In seperate countries. But Hermione pushed that thought back for the time being.
Back to the tree…
"Tired, are you?" she asked, bringing herself back to reality, realising that she was unashamedly staring at Ron as she was lost in thought about their conversation with Kingsley.
"Mm."
Descriptive as ever, Hermione thought with a smirk. "I don't know how you can sleep against the tree, the bark hurts my head," she said, trying to readjust herself into a more comfortable position.
Ron turned his head slightly and opened one groggy eye. He then patted his lap in a silent invitation.
Hermione considered it for about a second, before crawling into his lap and resting her head against his chest.
"Better?" he asked.
Hermione nodded against his chest. "Did you only do this to shut me up?" Her voice was playful as opposed to accusing.
Ron chuckled and nodded, before wrapping his arms loosely around Hermione and falling back asleep. However, Hermione couldn't do anything of the sort, despite how comfortable and safe she felt in his arms. She wasn't sure it was the best idea, but she wanted Ron to feel completely comfortable around her, comfortable enough to trust her with his vulnerabilities. Or else, what was the point in them exchanging 'I love you' in the first place. She could almost hear Ron's nagging voice in her head telling her that she was crazy, but she ignored it.
"Ron?" she began, tentatively.
"Yeah?" came his scratchy voice.
"I'm sorry to wake you, but I wanted to talk to you about something." Her expression grew tense as she felt Ron's frame stiffen ever so slightly.
"Yeah?" he repeated, his voice a tad more cautious.
Hermione took in a deep breath. "I was just-um. How are you?" she started with, tilting her head back to look up at him.
"Fine, thanks." Ron became confused as Hermione was obviously disappointed with his answer. "What?"
"You know what, Ron." Hermione moved so she was straddling him, locking him where he was sitting between her legs.
"I don't," he shrugged.
"Ron," she said imploringly. "Don't you remember what you said to me on our first night in the tent, when your arm was splinched?" she asked, absently tracing the scars through his t-shirt.
"Uhhh, 'do you mind keeping your snoring down while we're in the tent?'" he joked.
That earned him a swat. "For one, I do not snore. At all. For two, nowhere close. It was late at night, I was standing by the entrance to the tent, watching the rain. You woke up, and came through the tent, asking me how I was, and when I replied with 'good', you asked me again, and when I reminded you that you had already asked me, you said I was doing the same thing with your arm. I snapped at you, telling you that I only ask you so many times because I care. And you said that's exactly why you were asking. And then I told you how I was really feeling, and I believe the conversation ended with you telling me that I meant the absolute world to you?" she said, smirking at the end.
Ron scoffed. "As I recall it, you said the same thing to me."
"Ah, so you do remember it, then?" Success.
"Well, yeah," he mumbled.
"Can you really not see where the direction of this conversation is going?" she asked incredulously.
Ron sighed. "I'm fine, Hermione, I promise. I'm more worried about you."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, for weeks you stayed by my side as I... healed, you made me feel as though I was the only person to exist in your eyes. I've had my time, now it's your turn. Besides, I'm practically all better now," she maintained.
Ron scoffed.
Hermione arched an eyebrow up at him. "What?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
"You're obviously not 'better', Hermione. You still wake up from them sometimes, Ginny told me earlier," Ron stated.
Hermione's eyes instantly watered as a lump restricted her throat. She had to remind herself that Ron was going through a terribly difficult time, but her emotions got the better of her. "Why, thank you, Ron," she said sarcastically, moving off of his lap as quickly as she could. "I'm glad I can always count on you to point out what is still so 'obviously' wrong with me." And with that she stood, ready to stalk back to the house.
Ron scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, swearing at himself before catching up with Hermione, who hadn't made it very far yet. He stood before her, biting his cheek at the anger he had with himself for making her cry when she was just trying to be nice. "Hermione, I'm sorry. That was a dickhead thing for me to say, and I didn't mean it like that," he said sincerely.
"No, Ron, it's true, I'm-"
"No, Hermione. It's just, I'm still so worried for you, or not worried, but.. bloody hell, I don't know. I guess I just care too much about you."
Hermione's eyes softened as her stomach fluttered. Would it ever stop doing that when he said something sweet? Probably not, but she could definitely live with that.
"I think we're both rather guilty of caring too much about the other here, don't you?" she asked, running her hands gently up and down his arms, before finally resting them around his shoulders.
Ron nodded. "We're both bloody mad," he chuckled.
Hermione sighed and rested her head against his chest.
"I miss you," she said.
"I miss you, too."
"It's funny, isn't it? It's only been five days since we stopped being with each other 24/7 for months, and we already miss each other."
"Told you, we're bloody mad," he said again, running his fingers up and down her back. "But I'm definitely talking to Mum about you and Harry switching rooms."
Hermione pulled back to look up at him. "Ron, are you sure that that's a good idea?" she asked uneasily. "Your mum is quite strict about these things," she said, absently playing with the neckline of his t-shirt.
"Dunno. Doubt she'll be that bothered, really. We just fought a bloody war. Besides, I don't know how much more I can take of not sharing a bed with you, now I know how it feels to."
Hermione nodded in complete understanding. "Okay. Just promise to, you know, let me in, okay?" she asked softly, caressing his cheekbones delicately.
Ron closed his eyes at her touch, nodding. "If you promise to do the same."
"Ron, the last time you saw me cry was approximately four minutes ago, I don't think I've ever done an effective job of hiding it," Hermione chuckled.
"Good point," he mused, before bending his head down and kissing her.