Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters!
The Morning After
When Hermione wakes up in Ron's bed after the final battle, she's still unsure where they stand.
The sun peeked through the opening of the bed curtain, causing Hermione to violently jerk her head away from the blinding light and turn onto her side. She cracked her eyes open and took a moment to regain her focus.
Her eyes adjusted to reveal a tuft of ginger hair— the back of Ron's head was resting on the pillow beside her. A slow, rhythmic, and raspy snore echoed from his mouth with each breath.
Ron.
Hermione scanned the bed. Ron's bed. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she turned and poked her head through the opening in the curtain. Harry was across the room, lying prone on his bed, awake and intensely focused on a piece of paper in front of him.
Harry's here too.
Before Harry could see her, Hermione retracted back into the curtain like a paranoid turtle. She gingerly lifted the blankets to check on her own body.
Well, I'm wearing clothes, so that's good.
She lowered the blanket back down and breathed a sigh of relief.
Wait a minute.
She lifted up the blanket again to reveal a Chudley Cannons T-Shirt that fit her like a dress and a pair of maroon joggers that bunched up at her ankles like inchworms. These weren't her clothes.
I'm wearing Ron's clothes. What is going on?
She began with the obvious.
I'm in Ron's bed. I'm wearing his clothes. Harry's here.
She could be certain about those things. She scanned the room to gather more data.
I'm awake.
Was this true? Hermione reached her fingers to her arm and gave it a tight pinch. She winced.
Yep, I'm awake.
Since she was awake, that meant...
I'm alive.
Of this she was certain. Everything was too normal for this to be an afterlife— minus the fact that she was in Ron's bed and wearing his clothes. She tuned in to the sound of Ron's restful snores once again, the ones she had found so irritating back in the tent. Now she saw them for what they truly were— evidence that Ron was alive too. Suddenly she found them comforting.
Funny how things change.
Now for more facts.
We robbed Gringotts.
We destroyed the remaining Horcruxes.
Harry survived the killing curse again.
Harry killed Voldemort.
We won.
I kissed Ron.
And now I'm in his bed.
The events of the last few days could have easily been a dream. Or a nightmare. Maybe a little bit of both. Not only were they the kind of stories she'd scoff at if she'd heard them from anyone else, but they were just as blurry in her memory as her dreams. She needed to gather more information, one step at a time.
We robbed Gringotts.
Her gaze fell to her arms, which were covered in burn marks— evidence of an unfortunate encounter with flaming hot gold.
We destroyed the remaining horcruxes.
She remembered Ron's triumphant return to the tent, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand, the locket hanging defeatedly in the other. She hadn't forgotten how she and Ron had nearly drowned in the Chamber of Secrets after stabbing the cup with a basilisk fang. And their horrifying flight through the Room of Requirement would be forever burned into her memory like the fiendfyre that destroyed the diadem and nearly engulfed them. But that left one more horcrux— Nagini.
Did we kill Nagini?.
She had to ask. Hermione sat back, careful not to wake Ron, and poked her head back through the bed curtain.
"Good morning," she whispered toward Harry's bed.
Harry looked up and smiled at her, but his smile didn't seem to come easily. She tried to identify the emotions it carried- Love? Relief? Sadness? Mourning?
"Morning," he said.
Hermione held his eye contact for a few moments, wondering what to say. Then Harry's smile turned to one of amusement.
"You're in Ron's bed," he grinned. "Did you do that on purpose?"
She felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks and shrugged sheepishly. "Honestly. I don't know. I'm trying to figure out exactly what happened yesterday, and I haven't gotten this far yet," she said, motioning vaguely between herself and the sleeping Ron next to her. "Everything happened so fast."
Harry's smile softened. "A little blurry, huh?" He shifted over, leaving space for Hermione next to him.
Hermione nodded, crawled out of Ron's bed, and made her way over to Harry's. His smile instantly sprung back up as soon as he saw what she was wearing.
"Nice clothes. Cannons fan, are you?"
"Shut up," she said, before redirecting him right to the point."What happened with Nagini?"
No elaboration was needed for Harry to answer. "Neville."
That's right!
"So that was it then? We destroyed them all." She felt a sense of relief as the events solidified in her own memory.
"And me. I was the last one."
So he did die! I'm not crazy.
Harry and Hermione discussed the remaining events of the battle, each filling in the missing pieces for one another. As the events cleared up, her heart felt heavier.
"Fred," said Hermione, with a quick glance back at Ron's bed.
Harry nodded. "And Tonks and Lupin. And then some." He pointed at the piece of paper in front of him, the Marauders Map, and Hermione realized he was trying to figure out who was still alive. She glanced down at the map, and ran her eyes over the names she saw, feeling more affection for each set of pacing footprints than she ever had before.
Hermione focused on her own name on the Marauder's Map, next to Harry's, and a sleeping Ron's. "How did I end up here?"
"In Ron's bed?"
Hermione scowled playfully at Harry. "In Ron's bed, and in Ron's clothes."
Harry responded by raising an eyebrow at her. Well, based on what I witnessed in the Room of Requirement, you two needed to find a place to shag each other's brains out, stat."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "We didn't—"
Harry laughed "I'm kidding. I was here the whole time. If you two had been shagging, it must have been bloody awful because I didn't hear one sound."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
Harry continued. "And based on how loud you two are when you row, I would expect nothing less from your sex life."
"Seriously Harry," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.
Suddenly, the room was eerily quiet. Harry noticed too. "Morning Ron."
Hermione felt her stomach tighten in knots.
"Morning," she heard from behind the curtain of Ron's bed. He poked his head through. "Oh Hermione you're—," he said, pausing when he saw what she was wearing, "wearing my clothes."
Harry, his timing impeccable as always, stood up and announced, "I'm going for a walk. I'll let you two be alone." Hermione thought she saw a smirk as he passed her.
Ron and Hermione sat still for a moment staring at each other. Ron on his bed, Hermione on Harry's. Finally, Ron spoke up. "Where did you sleep?"
"I uh...I woke up in your bed."
Awkward silence.
"I see." Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Then you moved over to Harry's?".
She felt a flash of irritation at this— Ron's jealousy of her friendship with Harry had caused more than enough problems recently. "Well you were asleep, and I was trying to figure out—".
"It's okay. You're wearing my clothes." He was smiling shyly at her, and her irritation vanished.
Hermione nodded over to Ron's bed. "Can I sit with you?"
"Of course."
She stood and shuffled across the room to join him. They sat quietly for a few uncomfortable moments, and Hermione began to play with the corner of her blanket just to give her hands something to do. After enough silence, she spoke up. "How are you feeling?"
This seemed to be all Ron needed to let go— a normal enough question for two friends to ask each other. "Been better." He laid back down on the bed and Hermione turned to face him.
"Fred." It was all she needed to say.
"Fred," he repeated, his voice croaking as he said it.
"I'm so sorry, Ron."
Ron's eyes started to glisten as he stared aimlessly up toward the ceiling, lost in thought. They remained silent for a moment too long for comfort. Hermione racked her brain for what to do. As Ron's best friend, she would have hugged him, but now that they've kissed, he's lying on his bed, and she's wearing his clothes, a hug felt much more intimate. She thought about reaching for his hand. But that felt too forward too. So she simply sat there and offered up a sympathetic smile.
"This feels different," he finally said, breaking the silence. There was a smile— however forced— behind the words. Then he reached for her hand, laced his fingers through hers, and gave it a squeeze. "What's different?"
Does he remember the kiss?
In an attempt to answer as diplomatically as possible, she responded, "nothing that has been… verbally acknowledged."
Ron laughed and she felt the mood lighten around her.
"Clever with your words as always." He was looking at her curiously, with an expression she hadn't seen before, at least not directed at her. She had seen something similar on Krum's face at the Yule Ball, and on McClaggen's face at Slughorn's party over a year earlier, but the expression suited Ron better. "Hermione Granger, I'm pretty sure you kissed me," he said, and her heart leaped. "Is that enough of a verbal acknowledgment?"
Hermione smiled at his confirmation. "I think I did. And then at some point, I put on your clothes and crawled into bed with you. So yes. Something here is different." She glanced at their interlocked fingers, as if for emphasis
"You must have needed clean clothes," he said, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb in a way that sent shivers up her arm. "I like seeing you in my clothes."
Butterflies. He was good at giving her those.
She smiled down at the Cannons shirt and oversized sweatpants she was swimming in. "I like being in them."
Ron continued. "You slept in my bed with me. I like that." His ears reddened as he said it.
She playfully rolled her eyes and he smiled wider before gently tugging her hand toward him.
"Get over here," he said as he lifted up the blanket, revealing the Hermione-sized gap of space where she had woken up earlier.
"Maybe take me to dinner first?" she joked as she laid her back down, leaving just a small gap between her body and Ron's.
"Hasn't that ship sunk?" Ron said, incorrectly recalling one of Hermione's common muggle expressions.
"Sailed," she corrected. Hermione was unsure how to proceed in this unfamiliar territory of their relationship.
Where do I put my head? My arms? Can I hug him? Lean into him? Would that be weird?
As if he was a legilimens, Ron covered her in the blanket and turned his body toward her. He draped his arm around her waist and pressed his lips against her temple. "I'll take you to dinner anytime."
She laid next to him for a while, lost in thought, basking in the feel of Ron's warm breath on the side of her face. She turned her head to see his eyes were closed. With all that has happened, he looked pretty content. Her gaze moved to his perfect lips. She vaguely remembered the feeling of them on her own less than twenty-four hours before. Where had the courage to kiss him come from? The thought of doing it again now was terrifying.
She couldn't help but wonder if he wanted another kiss…"
Hermione didn't have much experience in that arena. Her last kiss had been with Cormac, and was pretty much against her choice. They had only one rushed, frenzied, kiss together, under the mistletoe, from which Hermione had managed to escape. She never initiated anything with Krum— he had doled out a few chaste pecks during the time they were together, and before he left for the summer, they enjoyed a more intense snog that left Hermione feeling unsure if she was doing it right. She wondered what it would be like to be able to kiss someone whenever she wanted, comfortably, without debilitating butterflies exploding in her stomach.
She must have been looking at his lips for a little too long. When the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, she shifted her gaze upward and saw that Ron's eyes were open.
"Staring at my lips?"
"No, just lost in thought…" She lied, trying to play it cool, but her flushed face betrayed her.
"So you don't want to kiss me again," Ron said, smirking.
"I mean, if you're offering."
She couldn't have prepared for the second kiss. Ron tugged at her waist to pull her over to her side so she faced him, and leaned in. Her eyes closed as he gently pressed his lips to hers.
Ron's gentle kiss was different from yesterday's heated, passionate, snog, but communicated just as much. A volcano of butterflies erupted in her stomach, but the rest of her body melted into him. His hand shifted to her head as he tangled his fingers in her hair. She felt him smile gently through the kiss, a smile she returned before he pulled away to look at her.
"Do I get to do this whenever I want?" His question was sincere, again, almost as if he was reading her mind. Hermione nodded. Ron then shifted onto his back, gently guiding her toward him. She boldly situated herself on top of him, her leg tucked between both of his, and leaned down to capture his lips again.
She thought back to all of the intimate moments she'd shared with Ron this year. Dancing at Bill and Fleur's wedding, wanting so badly to be closer to him. Those tender moments in the tent, when neither of them was wearing the locket, and Ron would squeeze her hand, bring her tea, or cover her in a blanket while she took watch or read on the couch. At Shell Cottage she had needed help changing at first, and when Fleur wasn't available Ron would help her, facing her away from him and closing his eyes out of respect. Kissing Ron, actually snogging him, while intertwined in his bed and wearing his clothes, was something that could have happened any of those times. She had wanted it to. She'd imagined this. Eventually, she got so used to kissing Ron only in her imagination and it still didn't feel real.
She felt his hands slip up the inside of her shirt. The feeling of his warm, calloused fingers on her back made her giggle.
"What?" Said Ron, pulling away. "Too much?"
"No, just surprised me, that's all. Kind of tickled too."
He grinned as he removed his hands from her back and brought them to frame her face. He brushed away a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "You're bloody beautiful. You know that?"
"Language, Ron."
"She hates swearing and can't take a compliment. Just confirming that it's really you." He laughed and pulled her in for another kiss, this time letting his hands return to her lower back, gently massaging around her spine.
Hermione groaned and lowered her head to rest on his chest. "That feels good."
"Noted," he said as he worked his hands up and down her spine, falling into a rhythm as Hermione relaxed in his arms.
Ron's fingers eventually stopped moving, causing Hermione to look up. "Remember fifth year?"
"What about it?" she asked.
"We were talking about Cho Chang and you told me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon because I didn't understand how someone could be feeling so many things at once without exploding."
Hermione laughed. "Yeah. I remember."
"Well, I understand now." Although he didn't have to, he continued to explain. "I can't believe Fred's gone. It hasn't sunk in. And when it does, I don't think I'll ever truly get over it. This is new for me, and it's probably the worst thing that's ever happened to me."
Hermione nodded. "Yeah," she whispered.
"And then this," he said, motioning to their bodies pressed up against each other, embracing. "This is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. I've been imagining you in my arms for a while."
She blushed again. "Same."
"Also in my clothes, and my bed, but those imaginings don't need to be said out loud."
She chuckled as she thought back to the images her subconscious had come up with over the years— images Ron would be surprised to know about, coming from prim and proper Hermione.
Ron bit his lip before leaning in and kissing her again, this time sliding his hands lower on her back, so they rested at the waistband of her— his— joggers. Breaking the kiss, he whispered, "you'd think these two emotions would cancel each other out, but they just intensify one another." He leaned back in, this time kissing her more deeply and opening his mouth slightly to capture her lower lip in a playful bite. Hermione shifted herself further on top of him to kiss him back more fully, and let her mouth open to accommodate his tongue. All of Hermione's anxieties about kissing correctly vanished as instinct took over. She just enjoyed being this close to Ron, as he responded with the same enthusiasm as he had in the Room of Requirement.
Hermione paused when she felt the physical representation of Ron's affection for her pressing into her leg.
He's big.
She smiled at the thought. It'd be a lie to say she'd never wondered what Ron was sporting under his pants. "Happy to see me?"
Blushing, Ron smiled. "Like I said. You're bloody beautiful. And one can only feel so much before they explode."
Hermione shamelessly pressed against him and buried her head to his chest. Ron wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as he kissed the top of her head. Then he sighed. "I'm going to be a bloody mess for the next few months."
She nodded. He was always a mess, but this time, he was her mess, and she would do everything she could to help him move forward.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, and I appreciate your reviews.