Maybe One Day
Author's Note: Originally published on July 17, 2009
He couldn't stand the tense wait and welcomed the momentary distraction provided by his sister's constant pacing. She was bristling with nervous energy and restrained worry, her gaze never wavering from the blank wall in front of them. Neville shifted uncomfortably beside him, his strained gasps echoing in the dimly lit corridor.
Ron focused his attention on the map. As he stared at Hermione's name on the parchment, he experienced sick feelings of dread and worry which dulled the wonderful sensation instilled by the luck potion. He had a flashback to a year earlier, when he'd woken up in the Hospital Wing only to find her pale and lifeless in the bed next to his. He had been paralyzed with fear until she had finally drawn a shaky breath and shifted in her sleep. In that moment, he had made a vow to protect her from any further pain.
He cursed himself for breaking his promise, as once again they were forced to split up at the worst possible moment. His chest tightened at the thought of something happening to her. The bitter irony of his concern wasn't lost on him, as he had been the cause of her hurt that year. After the poisoning, he'd had time to reflect on his mistakes when it came to their relationship, and how his anger, frustration and petty jealousy had nearly destroyed it. They had taken slow steps to rebuild their bond, but at this terrifying moment of life and death, he realized how strong his feelings for her had become. He lamented the precious time they had squandered when there was so very little of it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a familiar door. He took one last glance at her name before hastily shoving the map in his robes.
Malfoy.
Darkness.
Dumbledore was dead. Bill was maimed. Snape and Malfoy had escaped. He had been unable to stop any of it and now felt like his world was crumbling.
The only thing preventing him from drowning in his sorrow was a trembling, but otherwise unharmed Hermione at his side. As they stood together, captivated by the phoenix's haunting song, he wanted nothing more than to hold her close and provide comfort. He practiced restraint, knowing that he needed to take things slowly; he had broken her trust once before with his rash behaviour. Despite the devastation he felt, when he looked down and saw her crestfallen expression, he knew he needed to do something.
He courageously brushed her fingers with his and grabbed her hand lightly, giving it a gentle squeeze. Unnoticed by the others, they remained like this until McGonagall entered. He squeezed her hand once more before reluctantly releasing it. She flashed him a brief smile, one which told him there was still a chance for the two of them. He was tired of wasting time and made up his mind to truly win back her trust, and maybe one day soon, her heart.