Chapter 7
Rubbing her eyes, Hermione felt as if they were glued shut. Everything about her situation felt foreign as the room swam murkily into view.
It definitely wasn't her room. It was still rather dark, but she could tell it was fairly bare. Slowly, she pulled herself up, the past evenings events starting to settle in her memory.
That's when it dawned on her. I'm in Ron's bed. She could smell him on the downy blanket, but when she looked over, he was nowhere to be found. A few colorful fragments of last night flitted through her mind - Ron holding her hair back, the Chudley Cannons t-shirt. She looked down and rubbed her hand against the cotton fabric and smiled.
As if her aching body wasn't enough reminder of the endless retching into the toilet, she quietly coughed into her hand. Yep, her breath smelled like death. Gently crawling out of bed, she made her way to the attached bathroom. There was some light streaming from behind the curtains so it was probably well into the next morning.
Looking in the mirror she recognized that her breath wasn't the only thing reminiscent of death. She turned the faucet on, washed her face, and grabbed Ron's toothbrush and toothpaste.
I'll buy him another one. She compromised with herself. Whatever happened, she had to get the stench out of her mouth or another vomit-filled morning would commence.
She took the toothbrush with her so as not to forget her promise, and ever so quietly opened the door from the bedroom into what appeared to be a quaint living room.
Tiptoeing into the silent room, she saw her clutch and shoes sitting haphazardly on the floor near the sofa.
Hermione almost blacked out for a second time in the past 12 hours when her eyes ran up over Ron's unconscious form sprawled over the sofa. He was much too large for a sofa of that size, and his arms and legs strewn awkwardly over each corner vying for a comfortable spot. Hermione clawed her eyes from his crimson hair over his peaceful features and to his bare chest. She gulped, her body buzzing. Ginny had been absolutely right. Ron was fit and it drove her mad with desire. Pulling her eyes away from his chest, she noticed he wore a pair of flannel pajama pants with the blanket hanging off his one leg and onto the floor.
Though she imagined herself jumping atop of him and snogging him senseless, there was also a sweet innocence to his features.
Her mind returned to last night. How had Ron known she was missing? How could she repay him for finding her and caring for her? She committed to herself that she would leave him be and find some sort of appreciation gift once she got home and cleaned up.
In the meantime, her stomach growled and she snuck her way into the kitchenette to scour the pantry for some sort of snack, again, promising she would be making it up to Ron in multiple ways.
She carefully opened the fridge and bent over perusing the options. If there was one thing she knew about Ron, he always had a well-stocked kitchen.
"Morning." She heard Ron croak pleasantly behind her.
Hermione's spine arched like a cat being caught off guard, and spun around.
"Ron!"
She was struck silent yet again with his devilishly handsome features leaning up against the counter, his arms crossed over his firm chest. Ron seemed to have quieted as well, sending a momentary glance down to the Chudley Cannons shirt. Hermione felt a blush creep up her neck as she played with the hem between her fingers.
"I'll be honest, no woman has ever come over and proceeded to steal my toothbrush the next morning."
Hermione looked at him questioningly, then realized what she had in her hand. She immediately held up as if waving a white flag.
"I know, I'm sorry. I was going to get you a new one. I just couldn't go a moment more without getting the horrid taste from last night out of my mouth."
Ron was already shaking his head with a chuckle. "It's cute, actually."
Hermione's warm blush ran hotter as a silence filled the room.
"Thanks again for your help, Ron. Someone must have slipped something in my drink."
"Right." Ron laughed, assuming it was a joke. Though he had never seen Hermione drunk before, he was sure she had done quite well getting herself free drinks.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked carefully.
"Come on, Mione. You don't have to be perfect all the time." He said, trying to return to the jovial happy mood.
"I only had one shot last night, and then I spent the rest of the evening in the toilet." She said, eyeing Ron with disdain.
"Okay." He said defensively.
The light and loving breeze of their conversation shifted quickly to a cold chill. "I should probably get home. I'll be sure to get your shirt and a new toothbrush back to you on Monday." She said curtly.
Ron ran his hands through his hair and gave a frustrated sigh as he watched Hermione gather her things.
"Wouldn't want Jeremy to think anything was going on." Ron spat out before he was able to stop himself.
Hermione froze, her back to Ron. What did he just say? She slowly turned on her heel, a scowl etched across her face.
"Excuse me?" She hissed.
Ron knew instantly that he had crossed a line, but he was tired of Hermione and her hot and cold behavior. He was tired of this game they continued to play. Why couldn't they just have an honest conversation for once.
"You heard me. Heaven forbid your boyfriend think something was going on between us."
Hermione's things fell from her hands as she watched on in shock. Ron's face seemed to be contorted between a raging lion and terrified kitten. After a moment of silence, Ron put his hands on his hips as if to double down on his statement.
Hermione's body was on fire. She was so caught off guard by his attack, and a completely wrong one at that, that she had no idea where to begin in chewing him out.
"Right." Hermione started, also putting her hands on her hips. "Because of course after the almighty Ron gives his blessing on who I date, I am now dutifully required to bed him."
Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't…"
"Of course you did, Ron. Jeremy gave me a 10 minute speech about how you wanted him and I to be together and live happily ever after. I'm so glad you approve. Maybe next time, you keep your arse out of my business."
"Oh, so you didn't tell him that you refused to date Aurors? Am I that much of a disappointment to you Hermione. Not only do you want to have nothing to do with me, but you want nothing to do with anyone like me?"
Hermione glared at him and threw her arms in the air. "I told him that because he wouldn't leave me be!" She screeched at him. "I don't give a damn about dating Aurors, and Jeremy is a decent guy. I wanted to let him down easy. Why am I explaining this to you?!" She screeched.
Ron had realized he'd woken a sleeping giant in Hermione form. Before he had a chance to defend himself, she continued on her fiery rant.
"Besides, Ronald, speaking of Aurors who would lose their shite if they found me here, how is your dear Aliesha Avery?"
"What does she have to do with anything?" Ron asked, clenching his fist. He had just lost one of his closest Auror friends last night, because he cared more about her.
"Oh, I don't know, the one you spend your time sucking face with in the newspaper. You know, the one you took home for Christmas and did a couples interview with Daily Prophet on?"
Ron jutted forward. Hermione didn't move, the ends of her hair sizzling.
"Don't even start. At least I know how to have a positive relationship with the media. I don't try to hide until they make up their own story on me. At least I have the courage to own my relationships." His breath was heavy as he looked down at her.
"What the hell does that mean?" Hermione growled.
"Hmm, let me think for a minute...Victor Krum!" He yelled.
Hermione was already shaking her head. With Avery's dig last night, and Ron bringing Victor up again this morning, Hermione had reached the end of civility.
"What does it matter about Victor Krum?!" Hermione yelled back.
"You did that on purpose Hermione. You did it to hurt me and you know it."
"He is my friend, Ron!" She seethed. Hermione shoved Ron, but he didn't budge. She tried again, it made no difference. "And he asked for my help. That's what friends do for each other."
"Or secret lovers." Ron hissed back.
That was all Hermione could take.
"HE IS A FUCKING WEREWOLF!" She screamed at him, stomping around the room unable to stop herself. "He was scratched by a woman he was dating and was going through his transformation. I had just finished my time with the Werewolf Commune and I was helping him make connections. He didn't want the papers to get wind of his PRIVATE situation, so he tried to disguise it with a visit from me." She breathed pacing around the room. She didn't look at Ron, she was too furious.
"How was I supposed to know that?" Ron attempted, his voice still raucous. "You stopped writing. I thought we were at least friends. Guess I was wrong about that too."
She stormed up to him. "You always jump to the most ridiculous conclusions. You are so infuriating!"
They were nose and nose, and she could feel his breath on her.
"Maybe if you actually talked to me! You make me crazy, woman!"
Their eyes locked. She could feel the heat radiating off his chest. If she moved her hand just an inch it would graze his rippling abs. But her fists were clenched and the tension was thick. Both could feel the electricity sparking around them until they both were ready to melt into molten lava.
Before either knew what was happening, their bodies reacted on magnetic instinct, colliding into each other in lustful exuberance. Hermione smashed her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. He hiked her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. The distance and tension that had built up over the past five years spilled over into an uncontrollable desire to remember what every part of each other felt like.
"Ron" Hermione hummed as Ron fell backwards into a seated position onto the couch. Hermione landed on top of him with a thump as he pulled her as close as possible. She heard him growl as her bum rubbed against his lap.
Each touch ignited every inch of Hermione's body. It was like rereading your favorite romance novel and loving it more with the turn of every page, then it catching fire altogether. She groaned as he sent butterfly kisses up her neck.
She ran her fingers through his hair as he shifted to lay her down on the couch cushions. Neither said a word as he leaned over her and pressed his lips and body to hers. His tongue snaked in through her parted lips and both lost themselves in desire.
Minutes passed in passionate caresses. Ron ran his hands up under the Chudley Cannons shirt and up her sides. Hermione clawed her hands down his back, enjoying every move he made.
After the war, they had spent many nights getting acquainted with each other's body, but Ron had always been adamant about taking their relationship slow, to Hermione's surprise and slight disappointment. She wouldn't know until after how disappointed she would be that they had not gone all the way afterwards, when their relationship had grown distant. She always thought they would have been each other's first.
While she hadn't gone past that point with anyone, she was sure Ron and Avery had sealed the deal. She pushed the thought out of her mind as Ron slowly lifted his head.
Her curly tendrils lay wildly atop of the cushion as she gave him a coy smile.
"Boy did I miss doing that." Ron breathed with a wide grin.
"Mmmhmm" was all Hermione could get out.
Both pulled themselves up next to one another on the couch, arms touching, looking towards the kitchen and catching their breath.
"I reckon it was bound to happen, though." Ron spoke, as if continuing a conversation he was having in his head.
"Why do you say that?" Hermione shifted to look up at him.
"I nearly lost it when I saw you bent over the refrigerator in my Cannons T." He said, more to himself.
"Says the guy who didn't wear a shirt at all. Why would you do that to me?" She joked, jabbing him with her elbow then climbing back on top of his lap.
They both leaned in and their heads touched softly. Everything from their relationship many years ago, all the love, kindness, and affection flooded back.
Their eyes closed and they just sat there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of peace and love that had been eluding them these past five years.
"We seem to be in a bit of a pickle." Ron said jokingly, though they both recognized the truth in his words.
"Seems so." Hermione said, keeping her eyes shut. After so many years of struggle and jealousy, and being apart, she was terrified to plunge straight in again.
Ron pulled his head up and Hermione followed suit. She watched as he had a mental conversation with himself. He always did that when he had something important to say. She remained quiet, but gently stroked his arm. Everything felt so familiar, she fell back into her old patterns without even realizing it.
"Hermione." Ron said, grabbing both her hands. Hermione gave him an encouraging smile. "I'm all in."
"All in?" Hermione echoed, feeling as if her body would start floating at any moment.
"All in." He repeated, this time firmer as he squeezed her hands. "We were eighteen last time. We both were heading in different directions back then. It's different now."
Ron paused, then continued, "Honestly, I don't even know what direction you're going in" he chuckled, "but I'm going in yours."
Hermione didn't know what to say. What words could meet something so honest and heartfelt? She leaned over and pressed her lips to his.
"I...I feel the same way." She said after pulling back.
Before either had a chance to say something, Hermione's stomach gave a large gurgle. They broke apart in a fit of laughter, and Ron got up and bounded to the kitchen to find something for Hermione to snack on.
After another few hours of chatting, flirting and a bit of snogging, Hermione apparated home (despite Ron's complaints) with the promise that they would meet up for their 4:30am run on Monday morning.
When Hermione apparated into her flat, her face went from sheer happiness to concern and dread in less than a moment. Not two feet in front of her was a deeply disturbing sight.
She pulled her wand from her purse and paced around the room, still in the Chudley Cannons shirt, and the toothbrush in her other hand. After a few incantations, Hermione felt reasonably sure that no one was in her flat.
Slowly she walked up to the sight on her floor in front of her. There, in a pile in the center of her living room were the shards of glass that made up a vase, and wilting Calla Lillie piled in a neat stack. Next to the pile was a letter with her name written neatly across the front.
She felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck as the realization hit her: Ron had not sent her these flowers.
Hermione picked up the envelope and carefully pulled the note from inside and began to read.
My Dearest Hermione,
I hope by now you've realized what a horrible mistake you've made. How could you destroy my gift? How you could do something so hateful? That's why I had to do it, you see. It gave me no pleasure watching you suffer. The poison was in a very small dose. I would never kill you of course, you are too special to me, but while you are beautiful and smart, there is so much about you to be fixed. So, to help us reach the next level of our relationship, it is time we are reunited.
In the meantime, you'll need to follow a few simple rules. Just you like you, I'd like to keep our relationship private until we're ready to make it official. That means no sharing these communications with anyone. If I see that you've been talking about us, there will be consequences. It also means that we are to be faithful to our bond and commitment to one another. If anyone threatens this bond, I will have no choice, but to punish them, and I won't protect their life as I have yours. Know that you will be responsible for your actions. It is you that will cause the pain and suffering.
Until I come for you, I will be watching and wishing we were together.
All my love.
Hermione just stood there staring at the note. It was as if the smartest witch of her age couldn't comprehend the words on the page.
She felt another lurch in her stomach. She dropped the letter and raced to the bathroom, and vomited her breakfast into the toilet. Shaking, the words in the letter started coming together to form conclusions in her mind.
Someone was stalking her. Someone was coming for her. And whoever she told, and whoever got in their way, would pay the price.
