The plan was set.
As Hermione stood out in the salty ocean breeze, she played it over and over in her mind. Searching for variables. Looking for cracks.
She found too many to shore up.
As the waves sang their now familiar lullaby, she felt both stronger and weaker than she'd ever felt in her life.
She'd survived. Despite everything that had been thrown at her - not just in the last few weeks and not just in that manor but since she was eleven years old. She was still standing.
But how much longer could she? How much more could she take? Her muscles still felt the faint ache of curse after curse. What if they failed tomorrow? What if they were captured and tortured again? She didn't think it was physically possible to endure more than she already had. If they were caught tomorrow, they were dead. There was no more luck left.
Taking a breath, she lifted her chin defiantly. She wouldn't rely on luck. She'd rely on the plan. The plan that they'd spent weeks forming as she healed to the sound of these waves.
The barmiest plan on earth.
With a frustrated click of her tongue, she turned and walked back toward the cottage, her arms crossing her chest instinctively so she could rub warmth back into her chilled flesh. The nights were still cool here on the water, despite ever warming days that late spring brought with it. She'd chalk the gooseflesh up to that and not her cycling thoughts of impending doom for herself and those she loved.
On that thought, her frustrated resolve melted into a soft sigh as the familiar warmth of inexplicable contentment spread across her chest.
Love.
Merlin, if that wasn't the only thing that had been keeping her going for months now - but never more than in the last few weeks.
She felt like a silly, simple school girl to think it one minute, but railed against her own self judgement in the next. What was so silly about clinging to the very thing that could ultimately bring down the darkest wizard of all time when the world has gone sideways? Of course love was simple and silly and irrational and illogical.
It also was the thing that called out to you from a basement and tethered you to earth when every other tool you have is stripped away.
Reaching the back door, she walked into the cottage and felt the warmth from the fire in the sitting room immediately envelope her as she glanced toward the sofa before it. Luna sat quietly reading there now, but just a few weeks ago she'd been in her place with Ron Weasley right beside her.
He'd told her he'd loved her. Right there.
He'd let down his guard and he'd told her what was buried beneath all of the sideways looks and barely there touches and bubbling frustrations of so many years past.
She'd known it, of course. Known it in a far buried place in her heart that sat locked behind door after door which could only be opened with solid, evidentiary proof.
She was never someone who could merely rely on gut. She had to admit, that was a kind of emotional intelligence that her boys thrived on and she secretly envied of them. She didn't charge headfirst on a whim. She just wasn't built that way.
But if she'd learned anything in her 18 years, it was that she might not be comfortable trusting HER gut - but, she certainly should trust theirs.
Walking into the kitchen, she felt a small smile and blush begin to light up her face as she made her way to the cupboard for a cup. She's also learned that she would never feel more comfortable going with a feeling than when she was with Ron.
She'd nearly kissed him. Her! Hermione Jean Granger of the "I need to think everything through" school of thought had been a breath away from his lips. Those soft, full lips that she knew would be like heaven if she could just feel them against hers.
She bobbled the kettle at the thought and chuckled a bit as she forced her mind to focus on making her tea. It wasn't easy though. Truth be told, she'd been able to think of little else since it happened and there hadn't been a single other opportunity to be alone since.
Between healing in bed with Fleur forever at her side, interviewing Ollivander and Griphook and plotting with Harry - a moment alone in an over capacity cottage wasn't easy to come by.
Setting her cup, now filled with steaming tea, down on the counter - she looked out of the kitchen window into the dark night beyond. From this vantage point, during the day, she'd have been able to see Dobby's grave.
She squared her shoulders and spun on her heel. When had waiting for anything to happen organically ever worked out for anyone?
She'd waited years and only after watching the man she loved snog another girl, going on the run and being nearly tortured to death had she gotten an 'I love you' out of the deal. She'd been so weak and simultaneously stunned that she hadn't even said it back yet!
Now they were all about to charge into the most secure place in all of Britain, and possibly the whole of the wizarding world, to steal a piece of someone's soul the next day and she was sitting in a kitchen lamenting that they'd just not had any time alone handed to them on a platter?
Her fist was banging on his door, admittedly more forcefully than she'd really intended, before she could analyze one more second of this situation. If they were dying tomorrow, it certainly wouldn't be without this conversation under their belts.
She heard a light shuffling of feet and the click of the door just before it swung open to reveal Harry, his expression concerned no doubt by the ferocity of her knock.
"Hermione, you okay?"
She nodded and saw his eyebrows lower further as he took in the stubborn set of her jaw before she looked past him into the room to see Ron getting to his feet from where he'd been on his bed.
His hair was still overlong, curling slightly at his collar and the wool jacket he was wearing came up just short on his wrists as he gazed at her with curious concern shining in his kind, blue eyes.
He melted her. Just the look of him melted her.
Which made her, of course, agitated.
"I'd like to talk to you outside, please."
It came out more command than request and his eyebrows shot up at her authoritative tone while Harry looked back at him in equal surprise. Their expressions couldn't have read "what did you do this time?" any plainer.
She whinced inwardly at how not planning this out was working for her so far. If they lived through this, she had to work a bit on her communication skills. She knew this.
To his credit through, he wiped his palms nervously on the legs of his jeans once and made his way toward her. "Yeah, alright. Let's walk."
Trusting herself to say nothing else, she stepped aside to let him pass through the doorway and she thought she saw a glimmer of a smirk on Harry's face as he closed the door and left them alone, staring at each other, in the hall.
She had no idea what to say. Thinking about him alone and everything she wanted to tell him was entirely different than having him right here, so close she could feel his body heat, as she looked up into his face.
"Is everything okay?" His voice was soft as he searched her face for some clue as to what was going on and she realized that, right now in this exact moment, everything was more than okay. Two heartbeats from now it might not be, there was no way to tell with the way their lives were going now. But right here, right now - it was perfect.
Slowly, she lifted herself onto tip toe and watched with a flutter in her stomach as his eyes widened a fraction.
And just like that, she was leaning in and capturing his mouth with hers at last.
His lips were exactly like she'd imagined, soft and warm and perfect, but what she hadn't really been able to piece together in her head was what it would be like to actually have him involved in the fantasy as a participant.
Dreaming of him had almost been abstract. He was there, kissing her back and everything was perfect, but it was all about her when it lived only in her mind.
The live version of him, however, was full of wants and needs of his own that she couldn't have even imagined and suddenly she found herself crushed against him in his long, strong arms with a soft moan from low in his throat lighting her on fire.
She felt her arms cling helplessly to him as he moved one hand into her hair and his tongue lick across her lips before she opened up for him to slide it against her own.
She'd have been embarrassed about her knees buckling had she been with anyone else, but this was Ron. He'd been with her through everything. There was nothing left to be ashamed of again.
The strength of his arms kept her on her feet - that and the fact that he'd somehow managed to back her up against the opposite wall in the narrow hallway.
He was everywhere, his hands in her hair and on her face as he let his body sink into hers while his mouth and tongue vanquished any memory of ever having yearned fruitlessly for him. She'd never have to wonder again.
The kiss consumed her until she was only the sum of her feelings and she realized that if she let it go on much longer she still wouldn't be able to say what she'd actually come up here to say in the first place.
Pulling away from him gently, she stayed securely in his arms and watched his face as he gazed down at her with sparkling eyes - their breath coming out in quick bursts.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?" His voice sounded almost slurred as if he'd just imbibed in a bit too much firewhiskey.
"I love you too."
His eyes took on a focused, pointed look as he practically pinned her with them and she realized, in some recess of her mind that wasn't preoccupied with how suddenly, well, sexy, he looked, that his pupils had gone huge since he'd come out here with her.
"Please tell me you mean that and that you're not saying it because you think we're goners."
His voice was soft but rock solid and she realized immediately why he might doubt her. Again, she chided herself for rushing off without thinking about how best to do this.
They were heading out tomorrow. Their plan was bollocks. Did he think she'd say this to him because she thought they were going to die and she wanted to, maybe, give him a boost or something?
She could have kicked herself before she realized that, while he was definitely questioning her motives, his entire demeanor was begging for confirmation. He was staring at her with an intensity she hadn't even seen him use in chess. His arms were holding her against him as if he wanted to touch every available part of her, his breathing was shallow and if she wasn't mistaken, she wasn't the only one relying on the wall at her back for support at the moment.
No, this hadn't been a mistake at all. This man loved her, very clearly and very deeply, and it was beyond time that he knew she was long gone for him too.
"Ronald Weasley, I mean that more than I've ever meant anything and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to actually say it. It's been true for ages. I'll say it as many times as you'd like in order for you to believe it."
"Again, right now, wouldn't hurt."
She couldn't help but smirk and her heart skipped as he mirrored it with his sexy, relaxed, little sideways smile.
Reaching up, she gently cupped his face and reveled in how soft and unguarded his eyes became at her touch. Oh, how long she'd wished for him to look at her this way. If she'd been able to catch him, only once, she'd have never questioned his feelings again. The love in his eyes was all the proof the doors on her heart would have ever needed.
"I love you, Ron."
He let out a low, slow breath and dipped his head to take her lips again. This kiss was slow and deep, the kind of kiss that had the confidence to know it would be one of many more, and she knew right then that they would survive. They had to. It would be simply too unfair to believe otherwise.
She had no idea how long they stood there, his lips brushing hers over and over while she ran her hands up and down his back as if they had all the time in the world. Eventually though, she knew it had to end. They'd be off before dawn and they needed their heads in the game if they had a shred of a chance of pulling things off.
As if reading her mind, he pulled back just enough to drop his head against her shoulder and nuzzle into the side of her neck - pressing the briefest kiss there that sent shivers directly down to her toes.
"I love you so much it hurts." His whispered words against her soft skin practically made her shiver.
Reaching up, she ran her fingers soothingly through his sunset colored hair, thrilled with its soft, thickness. "When this is over, we'll be properly together and nothing is going to stand in the way again."
He nodded and then lifted his head back up to gaze into her eyes. "Right. We're gonna spend some time just you and I, too. Not scratching out space in a bloody hallway where my brother might walk by and Harry can probably hear every word."
The quick and light shuffling sound that came from behind the door again made them both smirk ruefully at the truth of his words.
Raising up on tiptoe one last time, she pressed a chaste kiss to the end of his long, freckled nose and regretfully let him pull away so she could turn back the way she'd come to head for her room.
"I'll see you in the morning."
He watched her walk away for half a second before he reached for her hand to stop her.
"Wait." Pulling her back, he kissed her softly and then smiled down at her. "Thank you for meaning it. But, if it looks like we're goners at any point in the future you have my full permission to snog me senseless then too. Seriously, don't even ask, just pounce."
She chuckled lightly and slapped him on the elbow before turning down the hall again. He watched as she walked to her room and smiled as she took one last glance at him before opening the door to walk inside.
Just as she was about to close her door, a dreamy, sing-song voice coming from her room filled the air at a volume that said its owner had no idea that tact should be employed at a moment like this. Or ever.
"So is it true that Ron's a good kisser? I'd imagined he might be."
Harry's chortle behind their own door proved he'd heard it too and Ron rolled his eyes, too happy in that moment to be anything other than amused.
The minute he could get that woman alone, he was never letting her go.
