Author's Note: After 7 long months of no updating, it's finally here! Sorry for such a long wait, but program got quite screwed due to many responsibilties and some lack of imagination. Even though I more or less had in mind what to write in the chapter, I just couldn't find the strength to write it down... Anyway, I really hope you'll forgive me someday(!) and that the chapter'll make it up for you all...

And I guess it'll be easy enough to understand which one this is... Some asked for it and I really couldn't help it! I'm aware of how many times this particular missing moment has been written by canon-shippers, but well, this is my version of the events and I hope it differs as much as possibly feasible (couldn't certainly know that, 'cause I've never read much myself... whatever).

Never mind my rambling, I'll let you read now... Enjoy! :)

~Love Potion Versus Lethal Poison~

I feel the back of my head exceedingly numb and cool and my body heavy and stationary, like a lying, chilly statue. Yeah, that's right; I'm on a horizontal state, but I just can't remember the bloody reason why. Everything's so blurry and unfocused, like I'm seeing my short past through a fogged mirror that can't be cleaned even by my stubbornness to retain the memories back. The feeling is so unnerving and irritating at the same time and I want to scream, because I'm suddenly afraid of the solid darkness around me, but I think that I can't; I must be trapped in my own unconsciousness, for some reason.

I feel tiny and about to get killed. I want someone to get me out of this nameless, bracing torture that swallows me up.

'Please… help me' I hear my heart whimpering with fear and I feel so bonded with the emotion, because unfamiliarity makes me want to cry for mercy and shiver uncontrollably, but as I'm just a poor mind and soul in an emotionless body, I do none. I do my own countdown, because I feel like some dreadful end is coming, and as I have nothing that really keeps me to stay alive, I just stay restless and scared, stiffen under the wary eye of my death that's approaching me… I just can't do anything but desperately hoping that she'll remember me, somehow during good, happier times…

And then it's when I hear it…

"And for the record, I've always found him interesting!"

Oh, my… her voice... Is this really heaven or she's somewhere near? I would surely faint if I wasn't already lifeless. The perfect voice of hers is still echoing in my ears, making my bruised heart beating once again with eagerness and a true purpose: hearing her once more pronouncing beautiful, harmless words… about me? I'm not very sure, as she didn't mention a name, but who would she speak about if she was near me, as she seems to be?

Does she really find me… interesting?

Oh, I'm surely on heaven…

Then, as this whirl of gleeful, light and totally unexpected emotions strikes me like a thunder, I swiftly think of something else: I have to tell her, to speak, to make my presence known, to say all the things I want to tell her desperately- she truly has to know…

'I was never meant to do a thing, Hermione!' I try urgently to shout, but I sense like nothing comes out of my sealed-off mouth. I try again, this time hoping to get some voice out of my lips, but I'm not sure- through nothingness how can I be sure?

'I really didn't want to be with her, Hermione! Never! Please, Hermione, believe me! Oh, Hermione…' I yell urgently, feeling my blood running in my veins and arteries with extreme anticipation for more. I try desperately to catch some other sound, but I hear none, so I try again, needing to say the words now, not just yearning.

'Oh, Hermione, can't you just see it?' I ask her with some wonder and despair in my inner voice, as I'm not entirely sure how my outer one is, 'It's always been about you, only you! Oh, Hermione, I would just live hearing your voice and saying to you how much I like you and adore you… I would spend the rest of my life just saying your name and never getting bored! Hermione... my dearest, adorable Hermione… my Hermione… Hermione… Hermione…'

I must be totally lost in my own words, as I feel so much lighter and warmer, actually so much that one of my hands is actually on comfortable and craved fire. I suddenly hear a distracting, high-pitched cry for only a moment, but I just don't give a second thought about it, 'cause I feel something silkily soft brushing my dried-out knuckles, making instantly my heart more alive and motivated as a sudden, ever so hesitant wondering enters my minds shyly.

'Hermione… is that you?' I ask her warily, trying to find out the answer of my coy question.

"Shut up" I surprised hear her soothing-coloured voice and I would most probably blush fiercely if I was conscious. Am I really such a hateful person to her? Then, why she's here with me?

I cannot surely understand a single thing but that not due to my so-called stupidity… Of course not! Just try to understand what's going on around you with concealed eyes, a half-conscious spirit and a weak body and with having lost some episodes of the whole thing…

Stupid situation that brought me here.

Even though I'm somewhat annoyed, I can so very clearly feel that balmy sense covering my hand, so I immediately get comfortable at it; if it's really Hermione, shouldn't I savour the very few, precious and most probably unrepeated moments of the flawed present?

Really, where's Luck to give it a hug?

Once again, I believe I'm surrounded by smooth silence, both inside and out. I try to identify some motion or sound or anything, just to pitifully reassure myself that I'm not in the fields of the vast 'dreamland valley', but for some minutes my poor attempts are met with proud failure. I wait and wait and wait for something significant to happen stubbornly, but nothing appears, so I'm so very ready to let my soul be crushed by vast feelings of vanquish and helplessness, but then again, something else suddenly pulls me away from all this mud.

"Oh, Ron…" I hear a sigh interrupting the silence's ramblings and my heart yelps ecstatically, as my ears instantly identify my sweet Hermione's lingering voice. I would most probably drool if I was awake by her tone, but as I'm not, I can just daydream and jump up and down in the ground of my mind.

If people were able to measure bliss, I would surely have crossed the highest rates by now, after so many months of misery.

"How stupid of you, really, eating something that it's not yours! Why are you always being controlled by either your stomach or your temper?" my thoughts were eventually interrupted by her words, which, mind you, made me fall into deep deliberation and confusion. Firstly, I cannot really remember what the heck I had eaten and when that happened, maybe also due to the fact that I feel a quite uncomfortable tightness in my stomach that makes me feel unwell. After that, does Hermione really think of me like that? For your information, beautiful, adorable, perfectly sweet, young lady, I have a stubborn, heated heart and a sometimes-quite-lazy-but-still-very-well-functioning brain to take control of me!

Duh! So much for having faith you all in me.

"You don't know how much I was worried about you when I heard of the accident…" I finally hear her almost inaudible whisper after long moments of silence and self-doubting. "I still am, but God, for a moment… I thought… I thought that I'll never be able to see you again and that is my worst nightmare, Ron…" Her tone seems calm, but I can somehow sense the fear still clinging on her words and I feel bad, because I cannot hear her like this, especially after so much time without hearing her voice. I want so badly to comfort her, with any way possible, really…

Try, you stubborn Weasley- TRY!

The effort fortunately doesn't take that long- or at least I believe so in my timeless, unidentified position; I feel my limp fingers twisting almost barely, but still… As an unconsidered afterthought, her reaction is a nearly soundless gasp and an immediate squeeze on my alive hand. I feel quite giddy, to be frank, but I believe that I deserve some of it… don't I? Whatever…

"R-Ron?" I'm able to hear the shy hesitance colouring her tone cutely and I can sense some motion of my facial muscles- my lips are numbly attempting to twist upwards, because my slowly-growing gladness cannot be suppressed only in inward limitations with every second passing; I have to let everything out, to feel essentially free and out of needless borders.

And I need this now.

Despite the great tingling feeling all over me, I cannot help it and I attempt to remove the eyelids from their position- I crave to savour every kind of light even with despair in my soul. After some moments of trying, I could doubtlessly make out the brightness of some fading sunbeams, as well a blurry something with a brown else around it…

…oops…

Surely, the vision is still so infuriatingly blurry, but I can be quite sure that this fuzzy figure before my not-even-half-opened eyes is Hermione; I feel slightly proud as my previous assumptions are luckily true. The said girl, even though seems to have her eyes casted on me, still doesn't appear to make out my open eyes- I have to somehow catch her attention, uncaring of the possible outcomes right now.

I shift my fingers a bit from under her balmy hand… and her eyes are surely meeting my fogged ones… shit, I can't breathe!

"R-Ron?" I eventually hear her repeating almost unsurely, like she's dubious about my consciousness. At first, my only response is another finger-shifting, but then I oblige my mouth slightly open.

"Mi-nee…" I only manage to croak with my hoarse voice and painful throat, but her quite noisy intake of air make it sure to me that the message was given- success!

"Oh, Ronald," I hear her sigh answering me and a second later, I feel the undoubted sensation of a warm, small palm pressing on my cheek reassuringly, making me feel various things. At first, the glee was inevitable, because I never stop seeking for a touch from her; but after this wave of delight, abrupt sentiments of dread are overshadowing my lighter ones. I feel like her presence is like that muggle thingy, drug: it makes you feel amazing, heavenly perfect, but when it wears off, when it's away from you, you crave for it, you cry for it, you'd kill and commit the sins of the world to grasp it back again, even for a quick, desperate moment. Even though her presence, her touches, her voice are all so important and wonderful to me, still I don't know what I'm going to do when she'll be gone again, leaving me wretchedly alone. Despite the happiness of the present, I cannot help it and foresee a black future that doesn't contain her- and that's simply horrific and intolerable.

"No… no…" I start mumbling unconsciously, not even sure that this croaky echo is my own voice; I feel my head very heavy, like it never experienced this previous lightness, and my eyes get abruptly blurrier. The lungs then start their own shitty rebellion and they're now pushing the air out of my probably-healing system, making me dizzier and sadder, "No, Mi-" I cannot even finish the absentminded rambling, as harsh gasping interrupts me, and from the sudden coolness of the throat and pain of my ribs, I reckon it's mine.

"Ron?" I hear a more anxious tone of hers, but it can only cause me pain now; just go away and let me be… I can't stand being played by you, dearest, so just let me be… let me be…

"Ron, please! Are you alright?" she keeps on, her hand grasping my trembling palm tightly, her other one touching my cheek more firmly, making me facing her with unwillingly half-open eyes; the gasps become worse and worse, as does my sight.

"No…"

"Oh, Ron, please, just calm down, calm down!" she almost shouts and the exclamation is followed by a saddening sob that makes my heart tighten achingly. However, her advice at the moment can't be followed; I just feel awful once again, I can sense the pangs of my misery scratching my heart with hunger. I let out a husky sob as well, and wetness reaches my temples.

Oh, just please, leave me alone if you're here only in thoughts of torturing me… I can't bear it anymore…

"No…"

"Please, oh please Ron… I'm here for you, please calm down…"

Her cries are now heartbreaking and I don't know how to feel about it. Her sobs and words make me wonder just if… But no, the past is vast, and it's clear, it says way too many things about us… us…

I don't know what to believe… only what I want to believe, yet I'm not quite certain what the distance between these two perspectives is.

I take another lungful of air harshly inside me. "Mione…" is all I can breathe out between my pitiful pants.

"I'm here, Ron, yes," she suddenly whispers with a much more composed voice even though I can slightly see the flushness of her skin and the wetness in her chocolate eyes- despite my own pain, I feel immensely guilty for being the probable cause of her ache.

Why it is always me that causes her this amount of hurt? And why it's always her providing me such a quantity of suffering?

Is it probably our feelings? But what are they? Even though once I would swear upon them, now I'm just dizzy from the conflict of theirs.

Why, when it came to us, everything has to be so bloody difficult, tangled and confusing? Is it too much to ask to understand her?

"It's alright Ron, I'm here for you… just for you," I listened to her whisper and swiftly my heart's obeying to her pleas, adopting a calmer pace. My blood though still feels hot inside me and I feel desperate and quite bewildered, gasping for some air and for some relief.

"I'm here, Ron" she chants softly, her voice another drug for me; it feels like this time during forth year, when fake Mad-eye Moody tried his Imperius curses on me- I can surely do anything this voice tells me: I can murder, I can steal, I can betray, I can commit bloody suicide just because of that feathery voice. "I'm here and I won't ever leave you…"

Oh, dearest Merlin…

"Mione…" I breathe hoarsely, needing to sense her utter attention on me; suddenly, I once again feel the frantic love for her prevailing inside me. Her fingertips travel across my skin reassuringly, making me feel special and wanted after eons of self-pity, and it's dreamful, it's breathtaking…

"I'm here…" she repeats lovingly and my heart flutters as response. Then, I sense warm breaths caressing my uncovered cheek- so sweet breaths that make me feel drunk… is this surely a reality? "Always here…"

"Hermione" I gasp softly, breathing unevenly just because of my need for her. My mouth remains half-open and my lips quite dry, still gulping the air that comes from her. "I… I-"

I never finish what I wanted to say- even though I'm not even sure what I wanted to. But it doesn't matter anymore, I don't matter…

Her breaths are coming straight on my lips… in my mouth… I can taste them with my tongue, and it's sweeter than everything I've ever savoured. I can't help and wonder more intensely than usual… what it'd be the taste… the taste of her own lips… the taste of her own tongue…

My gasps become heavier.

"Ssh" she lets out kindly, but it doesn't fully reach my mind- it certainly is focused on other, more crucial things… like the feeling of her lips against mine… of her silky voice calling out my name with adoration…

Am I asking too much?

I'm not certain how I managed it, but while deliberation, my arm raised and now my hand is cupping her jaw-line, the skin there soft and warm, like I've imagined it could be. I can feel a slight tremble of her muscles, but then they relax and I keep on exploring her skin numbly. My eyes, still barely open and foggy, struggle to observe something of hers, anything, but to almost no avail- all I can make out is a very faint outline of her features.

Without thinking, I arch my neck a bit, so my head is higher, almost not touching the pillow behind, so my face is closer to hers.

"Mione…"

Our breaths are blended now, both hot. My lips are quivering with slight anticipation and yearning, as my bottom one accidently strokes the tiny hollow between her mouth and chin. I hear her gasp lightly and I quickly capture the exhalation of hers inside me, needing as much of her as feasible. My tongue, at the particular thought, stirs with desire, and hesitantly passes from between my parted lips, in search of her skin.

If I ever thought before that I was blissful or insane, I surely wasn't feeling something like this…

My tongue, totally acting with its own mind, is tracing ever so slowly the full, soft flesh of her lips, driving me totally mad. My stomach feels balmy and does flips, and my lungs, even though with no as much oxygen inside, they're not complaining anymore. My entire system is enslaved by this moment of utter ecstasy.

Another gasp, one that's almost synchronized with mine.

"I don't want to lose you, Ron…" I hear a breathed, unconscious request. I don't want as well, my beautiful charmer…

I lean even closer, if that's possible, and I feel her leaning as well, our lips brushing against each other with feathery tenderness I didn't know I could possess. My eyes close instinctively and let only my mouth to work, to show her that I'm sorry, that I crave her and respect her like no other. Her bottom lip is then entrapped between my own ones, and I do what I've dreamed to do for years: I kiss it and suck it slowly and gently, like it would provide me immortality.

Oh my God, my heart's delightful and I'm surely intoxicated… While these acts of fondness and sincerity from my part, I sense her breaths showering my skin, heating it up, making it alive once again…

I'm blessed.

Her bottom lip easily slips away from my drunken praising and I numbly let my head fall on top of the pillow, unable to remain like this while I have also to endure the force of such delight! The thrill of such a moment runs inside my veins like alcohol- strong, yet sweet, and absolutely addictive…

Oh, Hermione, I love you…

The echo of this so solid declaration in my head ceases a bit as her lips begin to trace my upper one slowly. The tension I feel inside because of such reaction from her part makes my breaths once again to get uneven and travel straight inside her mouth. I reopen my eyelids just a fraction, so I can make out the bushiness of her locks and the paleness of her complexion, yet I don't mind; even these now can make me gleeful and serene.

Her lips then praise their way the bridge between my nose and mouth, a spot so close to my thirsty flesh… The motion sets me on lovable fire and I unconsciously sigh, feeling happy and important between her arms, near her presence. It's magical, and it has nothing to do with the swishes and the flicks of wands…

This is vital.

With the same way I claimed her lower lip before, she claims my upper one now, making another sigh fly away from me. The touches are silken and breathtaking, the warmth of hers comforting and lingering, just like everything else of hers. Her tongue licks softly this half part of my lip, stimulating my senses to the top, making me feel aroused like never before, feeling desired for the very first time. At this point, I willingly surrender to her ways, I'm hers, totally and utterly hers.

I'm yours…

The eternity passes without realizing, without my care. She keeps kissing my lip with gentleness and my tongue, unable to nest inside my mouth, just caresses back with obvious compassion. For a split second, both meet accidently and mate for a short moment of bliss that brings me a so soft moan. Her dragged exhalation touches my face sensually and she gives to my mouth another feather-kiss before finally pulling slightly away from my warm face, giving me unwanted space to breathe. I fast let my tongue explore my lips in search of some more taste of hers, of something to lull and soothe my roaring, still-quite-unsatisfied hunger for her. I hear a so soft giggle and I sigh contentedly, feeling whole and peaceful after what seems to be inescapable infinities. My pupils try some to catch a clearer glimpse of hers, a radiant image to be inscribed to my memory, but all I can still view is a foggy outline. Her hand, still on my cheek, caresses the freckly skin and happily I lean my face closer to this contact, ready to savour it fully. My hand, still under hers, shifts once again, eager to intertwine its long, limp fingers with her cool, perfect ones.

I want to be bonded with her like this forever; my heart seems to agree completely with this decision.

"Hermione… I l—I lo…"

And my eyes drift close, my exhaustion driving me to unconsciousness.

…

"You say you don't remember anything from that night?"

Her light voice makes me turn around to see her face quite close to mine. My heart's beating powerfully from the delight of having Hermione near me once again, this time talking to me, sitting close to me, being friendly towards me…

It seems so bizarre, yet I love every moment of it wholeheartedly.

"Anything at all?" she asks further and I can faintly recognize a tint of hopefulness edging in her voice. Her chocolate brown eyes, under the morning light, shine prettily and I'm then able to make out a hint of hesitation staining them. Why she cares so much about it? However, I try my hardest to answer her question as best as possible.

My eyebrows furrow instantly from thinking, as I try to find out something significant from that night. I look at the other side of the room absentmindedly, my mind far away… I can recall the foggy outline of a slim figure… A warm sensation on my hand's skin… Sweet words, sweeter breaths…

"There is something…" I mumble out with my faraway behaviour still intact, though I can sense two sets of eyes glued faithfully on me. Then, the sensation of warmth wetness on my lips, of gentle contact, of adoring feather-kisses is flashing in my head like lightning and I feel my stomach doing flips and getting warmer and comfortably tighter…

I'm here for you, just for you… I don't want to lose you, Ron…

"But it can't be," I continue quickly and laugh quite awkwardly, trying to hide the still-apparent confusion in my head. "I was completely boggled, wasn't I?" I look at her with a smile, even though I'm silently begging her to prove me wrong, to tell me that all these millions of light emotions aren't just a figment of my untamed imagination.

For a moment she glances at Harry and swiftly she looks all shy and hesitant, avoiding eye contact with me and curling the corners of the newspaper with a tiny, strained smile on her pretty face.

"Right. Boggled," she replies with a soft voice and I can't help it and stare at her while she doesn't look, thinking again of these abstract images and feelings. I keep quiet and look ahead, thinking always by my side and the echo of those fade words still swimming in my head. Even though it seems surreal to be actually accurate, I cannot believe that something so vivid is only a dream…

I look down at my plate myself and I try to hide that slowly-growing beam of mine. Everyone can say whatever they want… I'll always consider it a fact, an exact act between Hermione and me. And if time ever lets me, I'll ask this cute witch next to me if the actions of that particular night were ever a reality or the imaginings of a love-struck, dazed wizard.

-Well, that was it!.. Ron's completely dazed during these moments of bliss, he's acting on 'drunken' impulse, as I'm imagining it. Anyway, I really hope you all like it!

-And now, the author will be exceptionally happy- even happier than Ron!- if you leave behind some really anticipated FEEDBACK! It always makes the author's hot, summer days up!

-After that, I'd like you to inform you about my plans for the story. Originally, I've planned one more chapter, which I'll eventually update. But, you see, my internet service will be 'paused' soon, and I won't have access to my page that much for more or less a year (final year at highschool, yada, yada...) So, this chapter most probably will be up, as it seems, around this time... next year (really sorry, pals).

However, I really hope that this story still is likable to you all... Have a nice summer, and well... see you again! :) xxx