Ron sat on his bed, within the shelter of his velvet curtains. It was nearly morning. He couldn't bring himself to check on Ginny. He was positively terrified for her. He had been worried when she was just his little sister. Even then she had been a target. Voldemort had seen fit to possess her before she was the love of Harry's life. Now she was the mother of his child. It was too much. How could Harry go on hunting for Horcruxes with a family to worry about? Ron had been angry at first. He had thought about tearing Harry apart for defiling his baby sister like that. But, after a moment's thought, and after seeing the way Harry had held her to him, putting his own worries and fears aside, Ron had realized that it was more than that. They weren't just a teenage fling. Harry and Ginny were older than their faces said. And honestly speaking, it was entirely possible that they wouldn't have a lifetime to spend together. He could understand their need to share as much of themselves as they could before…well, before the worst had a chance to happen. Ron shook off his morbid thoughts and took a swig of the firewhiskey he had been drowning his sorrows in over the past hour. He kept it for special occasions, and after the night he had had, he thought it only appropriate.
Ron vaguely noticed the sound of a door opening and closing. He assumed it was Harry returning from pacing the common room. Ron raised his bottle again, and was surprised to find that it wasn't Harry at all. His curtains opened, and there stood Hermione Granger. Ron was filled with the pleasant, bubbly sensation that always accompanied her arrival, followed by intense and unsurpassed fear at the realization that her narrowed eyes were resting on the object in his left hand.
"Hermione…it's…well it is what it looks like, but…well…I'm of age." He explained sheepishly. Hermione looked from Ron to the bottle, and plopped down on the bed next to him. She rested her head on his chest and let the tears flow. Ron felt terrible. "I'm sorry; I'll get rid of it. I'll never drink again. Just…please don't cry. Hermione smiled slightly, a rough laugh escaping.
"It's not that. I don't care if you drink. Well…I do, but tonight it's okay. It's just so hard to fathom. Harry and Ginny are having a baby. How can it be that yesterday we were kids and today our best friends are grown-ups? It happened so fast. We're not children anymore. I mean, we're fighting Voldemort; people our age are having kids themselves, and above all else, we have to get jobs in less than a year and I have no idea what I want to do with my life!" Ron laughed out loud at this.
"Hermione, sweetheart, I still think you should try to sort out your priorities a bit." Ron chuckled. "And about what you should do with your life, with you're brains, talent, determination, and charmingly bossy disposition, I would start with world domination and work my way up." Hermione slapped his arm playfully. "Well, that and marrying me of course."
"You're drunk." Hermione said, flustered.
"No I'm not. And don't worry, I'm not asking you…yet." He smiled and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him quizzically. His hand shook as he brushed a stray curl out of her eyes. Her hair was so much softer than he'd thought it would be. He kissed her gently. She grinned at him.
"Oh sod it, give me some of that." Hermione took the bottle from his hand and gracefully downed about half of what was left, allowing herself only a small cough. Ron 's jaw dropped.
"That's my girl."
A/N
Thanks to all of my reviewers. I know you probably don't love me anymore. Sorry about the long wait. Thanks to rubber glove for the reminder. So…should I continue?
