AN: This was written for ballerinaroy over on the Romione Discord as part of our Secret Santa. I hope you enjoy it x
Hermione had never wanted to come to Grimmauld Place; she'd made that perfectly clear to Ron and Harry whilst they were sat in the café trying to work out their next steps. The attack by Rowle and Dolohov had only served to make her protests louder, in her usual way. However, even she couldn't argue that they had nowhere safe to go and shelter that came with a mild risk of peril was better than no shelter at all.
Her concerns were founded as soon as they'd opened the front door. It had been too easy to get in, and the attack from Old Dusty had filled Ron with a sense of dread since. To make matters worse, Harry's scar had immediately started hurting, picking up on Voldemort's anger that Harry had yet again evaded capture and with his sudden departure from the front room, Ron was starting to think that Hermione had been right – not that he'd admit that to her.
He threw himself down onto one of the old, threadbare sofas; listening to Hermione stand at the bottom of the stairs and call for Harry to come back. Her voice was wavering and she was risking waking Walburga Black, but it was important to her for the three of them to stay together. Especially now. Ron knew it was fruitless; once Harry wanted to be alone there was nothing they could do to bring him around.
Hermione gave up; instead, choosing to focus her energy on pacing the wooden floorboards of the front room, disturbing the long-lingering dust as she moved. Every time she neared Ron, he fought the urge to reach for her hand, to pull her to his lap and wrap his arms around her and tell it would all be okay. Although one vital part of that was missing; Ron could never lie to her and, right now, he wasn't sure that everything would be okay. Even the appearance of his dad's Patronus, reassuring them that the family had survived and not to make contact, hadn't done anything to help this.
Instead he watched her pace, letting his mind drift from the peril they were facing to examine his growing need to make her feel safe. He felt a pull towards her, almost like an invisible string and it continuously tugged his thoughts and feelings back towards her. Last year, he would have said it was just hormones, or a teenage fantasy, but it had continued to grow into something more; ever since they'd escaped the bowels of the Ministry mostly unscathed.
"He shouldn't be up there alone, you know…" Hermione stopped at one of the windows, pushing the heavy velvet curtain aside and letting in a sliver of light into the room as she checked for anything suspicious out on the street.
"He's allowed to go to the bathroom alone, Hermione!" Ron winced as the witch spun on her heel quickly, throwing him a scathing look. "Okay – if he's not down in five minutes, you can go check on him."
She let out a heavy sigh and Ron felt it reverberate deep in his soul. They had absolutely no idea what they were doing, no plans set out and as far as he knew, they didn't even know where to start. They were lost, barely of age with nobody out there to guide them. They couldn't even reach out to the Order without putting them in more danger.
Dumbledore had left them bugger all, and Ron felt a rush of anger for their old headmaster. What good was the bloody deluminator when he hadn't even told them what it was for?! It was easy enough to turn off the bloody light for Merlin's sake.
He was soon distracted from his rage by Hermione pacing again.
"Hermione come on. You look exhausted. Sit!"
He'd meant it as a request, but she'd taken it as a command and he sighed as she flopped down next to him, throwing up a cloud of dust. He coughed jokingly.
"I might need my lungs in the coming days, so try not to kill me just yet…"
He turned his head to grin at her, but she only managed a feeble laugh, causing his shoulders to drop. One of his best skills was his ability to make her laugh and cheer her up and even that wasn't working.
He sat in silence with her for a short while, his ears pricking every time he heard a floorboard creak. His mind raced, thoughts bouncing around his brain about how he could cheer her up, how he could make this easier for the three of them and what the fuck they were going to do next.
"Only a few hours ago we were dancing together…"
She spoke so quietly, at first he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. He looked down at her with a small frown. She looked so sad and small that he pushed all his other concerns aside and slid an arm tentatively around her. He was rewarded by her leaning into him.
Ron felt his heartbeat immediately start to race, as it so often did when he found himself close to Hermione. He couldn't pinpoint when it had started; maybe it was as early as the Yule Ball but definitely within the last year being around her had suddenly gotten painful, especially if it were only the two of them. Their 6th year had been important, or so they'd been told, but he often found his concentration in class slipping to what he could be doing with her instead. It was worse if they were sitting together on a sofa or sprawled out across his bedroom and it often took Ron a good while before he could get up again. If only he'd had the balls to do something about it earlier, and now he finally had worked out exactly the direction he wanted to push his relationship, their hunt had started a lot sooner than he'd anticipated and he felt like he had run out of time.
"It feels like a lifetime ago…" He fixed his eyes on the family tree across the room from them as he pulled his arm tighter around her. He could smell vanilla, probably from her shampoo, despite the fine layer of dust over her clothes. "It was nice, wasn't it?"
He felt Hermione nod against his chest and he smiled slightly. It didn't take long for Hermione to calm down, to act less agitated. He braved turning his head and noticed she had her eyes closed. She must have been tired. Before he knew what he was doing, he pressed a kiss against the top of her head.
He held her until his own heart rate returned to normal and his blood had returned to its normal circulation around his body and he felt like his brain was able to function a little bit better.
Eventually, he heard her sniff and start to move and he reluctantly released his hold on her.
"We should think about bed…"
She wiped her eyes and got to her feet and Ron immediately felt the loss of her body pressed against his.
He watched as she crossed the room and rummaged in her way too small bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a set of pyjamas for the three of them. She passed Ron his without making eye contact with him before quickly leaving the room.
It didn't take long for the three of them to set up camp for the night in the same room, pushing a set of sofas together so that they could stay close. Ron had found some additional cushions and put together a makeshift bed on the floor between the sofas, refusing to let either Harry or Hermione sleep there. They needed their energy if they were to come up with some sort of plan in the morning.
He laid awake for what felt like hours after, listening to the soft breathing of his companions, assuming that they'd fallen asleep without any of the same difficulties he was experiencing until he watched Hermione roll carefully over to face him.
"Ron, are you still awake?" Her voice was barely a whisper again, but Ron heard it anyway. He watched as her hand fell towards the floor and he captured it, pressing his palm against hers. He wasn't sure why he did it, he just knew it was the right thing to do.
"Yeah, I'm awake…"
"What are we going to do?" Her voice faltered and although he couldn't see her face in the dark, he was pretty sure she was crying. He gave her hand what he thought was a reassuring squeeze.
"I don't know, but the three of us will be okay. I promise…"
"I'm scared…"
"Me too. But that's okay. I think if things start feeling a bit too scary, I'm going to think about how it felt to dance with you and how we need to get through whatever comes next so we can dance again."
"That sounds good. I liked dancing with you…"
"Good! Try and get some sleep yeah?"
He listened as Hermione settled back down under her blankets, burying deep into the makeshift bed. She kept her one hand sticking out through the covers, holding tightly onto his hand. Soon her breathing became deeper and steadier and once he knew that she was safe asleep, he finally let himself drift off.