Chapter 8
Hermione barely slept that night, tossing and turning, the prospects of today looming over her. She had come with absolutely no solutions. Rolling over she plonked her face into her pillow and blew loudly, before rolling again and sighing. She heaved herself out of bed and stomped down to the bathroom, frustrated at herself. She rinsed herself off under the shower, and tucked a fluffy white towel around herself as she faced the mirror.
She screwed her face up: her reflection staring back at her showed the restless she felt. Her eyes had dark circles, and she was pale. Her bones stuck out more, and she realised if she grew any more anxious, she would continue to loose critical weight. She gathered some strength, and pulled her mind back into focus. She wanted to look good for Ron. She loved him. She just also went around kissing other guys. Well not multiple, just one. Another sigh.
She got to work on her hair, and realised she wanted something new. Calling aloud to Kreacher, she summoned him, with a crack!
The elf bowed lowly and smiled at the muggleborn, it's ears flopping against his head. Kreacher was changed since they first met. He doted on Hermione, and to boot he kept himself clean and healthy now that his new master, Harry, was kind to him. Regulus' locket shone brightly on his chest.
"Kreacher, may I pay you to cut my hair please? I want it chopped off. A short look- sophisticated but still young. Can you do that for me?" Hermione asked kindly, clutching her towel to herself.
The elf bowed his obedience and standing upright insisted on not taking any money for the task. "You are too kind, miss. However I pride myself on being humble, and wish not to take your money."
The elf, elbow height to Hermione, clicked his fingers and produced a stool. He ushered Hermione onto it, and began working on her request. With quick and practiced fingers, he was finished in ten minutes, and Hermione beamed at her new appearance. New hair, new Hermione.
Her hair fell in soft, tamed waves that just touched the top of her shoulders, looking choppy and styled beautifully. It framed her face perfectly, highlighting her nimble chin, and Hermione felt truly feminine for the first time in a long time.
Thanking Kreacher, who disapparated with another deep bow, Hermione peered closely in the mirror again. She was happy with her hair, however she set to work on her dark under eyes, covering them with some concealer and highlighting her cheekbones lightly with powder. Five minutes later she stepped backwards and admired her handiwork before racing back up the stairs to get dressed. Breakfast was in fifteen minutes.
She pulled open her closet and chose a pair of ankle-grazer jeans, faded from age, along with some canvas sneakers and a plain white top. She felt causal but confident, before she left her room, running into Draco at the top of the stairs.
They smiled kindly to one another, slightly awkward and unsure how to act. The blonde pointed to Hermione's hair and said, "I like your new look."
"Thanks," she smiled. "Harry's house elf cut it for me just then. I was sick of the old look."
"It suits you. Make you look more normal, without all that hair," he teased. He wore designer jeans and a plain grey V-neck shirt.
The two fell into step and headed down to the great hall, sharing small talk the whole way, unaware of their surroundings. Occasionally they would bump into one another and Hermione was filled with nerves, which confused her. It would be like a bolt of electricity coursing through her, pulsing and making her flush. She wanted more of it, but they reached the great hall and parted, having decided they would meet after breakfast, and walk to Hogsmeade together.
Breakfast flew by as Hermione chatted with Ginny, who was excited to see Harry again. The pair ate lightly, Ginny casually dressed in maroon shorts and a white Peter Pan collared shirt, her hair up in a bun on her head. The girls looped arms and headed down to the lawn, waiting for Blaise and Draco to join them.
"Are you excited to see Ron?" Ginny asked, wiggling her brows suggestively. Hermione laughed and swatted at her.
"You know what we're like, Gin," she giggled. "We haven't done anything, you know that perfectly well enough, because if anything did happen you would be the first to know."
"Without the gory details, of course," the red head beamed, laughing lightly. "He is my brother after all."
"Back at you with Harry," Hermione shivered, slightly grossed out about the thought of Harry and Ginny canoodling. "Yuck."
"What's this about Potter?" Zambini called, taking big strides as he walked down the hill to meet the girls, smiling hugely at the women as they waited for the Slytherins to join them.
"He's a great kisser, and I can't wait to kiss him today," Ginny called back, enjoying the happiness coming from the boy she'd never really interacted with before.
"Enough of the details, Weasley," Draco yawned, ruffling his hair as he wiped at his face, stopping before the Gryffindors. "I don't want to loose my breakfast."
Ginny poked her tongue out at him. "Better avoid us then!"
She laughed and skipped ahead, dragging a happy, shorthaired Hermione along with her. They walked in pairs to the village in peaceful silence until reaching the main lane where they stopped, looking around. Harry and Ron were sitting on a bench talking seriously outside Dervish and Banges repair shop, and didn't notice the unlikely group standing mere metres from them.
Hermione snuck a nervous glance at Draco, before walking over to her best friends. Plastering a smile over her face she stopped short of them and coughed lightly.
"Excuse me, do you know where I might find two males who may or may not be some of the most missed men in all of Britain?" she asked. The boys looked up and both broke into huge smiles, jumping up and pulling her into a group hug. It was a loud reunion, and the threesome broke up, huge smiles on their faces, breaking into quick exchanges, before Harry looked past Hermione, searching for his beloved.
Spotting her standing there nervously, he walked over slowly before breaking into a run and scooping her up, planting kisses all over her face, spinning her around as she laughed loudly, her arms thrown around him.
Ron looked over at the two fondly, happy for his sister and his best friend. His smile faded quickly as he noticed Draco and Blaise standing uncomfortably off to the side, hands in pockets making small talk. Colour flooded his cheeks, but before he could start an argument, Hermione laced her fingers with his.
"Ron, please don't start a fight. Draco and Blaise have changed. They're good guys," Hermione breathed, determine to have the two sides of her life get along cohesively, if not friendly. If Ginny could like them after only finding out about them that morning, surely the others could too.
"What are they doing here, 'Mione?" he asked roughly, his voice tight with anger. She gave his hand a squeeze and took a deep breath, preparing to explain their newfound friendship, when Blaise interrupted.
He stood handsomely, holding out his hand to his rival. "Weasley, great to see you."
Ron looked at his hand carefully, before shaking it twice, grasping too hard to be friendly, but Blaise took it in his stride and maintained civility. "Zambini."
Harry and Ginny sauntered over, holding onto each other so tight it was as though they were afraid they would loose the other if they let go. "Harry, you remember Blaise Zambini," Ginny sang; joy seeping out of every fibre of her being. The men shook hands before Ginny gestured to Draco, "and Draco Malfoy." Harry shook Draco's hand carefully. Ron and Draco merely looked at one another, refusing to touch.
"Malfoy. Why are you with Ginny and Hermione here?" Harry asks carefully, wisely trying to assess how he should be reacting, rather than puffing up like Ron has done. The black haired man itched at his unshaven face, making him look older than the eighteen years he actually was.
The atmosphere felt formal, as Draco replied as causally as possible, "Well you see, Hermione and I share a dorm now, and we have become friends. As Blaise is my best friend and Ginny Hermione's, we all decided to walk down together." He shrugged. "No big deal."
Hermione smiled at the blond, her hand feeling hot in the hand of Ron's who was clearly battling between acceptable decorum and tearing Malfoy's head off. He looked down at Hermione from his height of six foot three. "You guys are friends?"
She stuck her chin out. "Yeah, we are."
The street began to fill with students as it became closer to ten in the morning, and the six had caught their attention, with people stopping to whisper at one another in gossip. "We should get going," Ginny said politely, smiling at Draco and Blaise. "We'll meet back here at five to walk back, shall we?"
Her accent dripped with formality; clearly she was trying to ease the passers-by away, by breaking up the group. Without saying goodbye, the group separated, and the Gryffindors walked down the cobblestone street, towards the Three Broomsticks.
"I like your hair," Ron muttered in Hermione's ear, tugging a strand into his fingers and breathing in the smell. "I've missed having you near by. I can't believe it's been three weeks."
Hermione smiled, enjoying the company of the strong man she admired. "Thank you. Kreacher cut it for me this morning," she hummed, drinking the sun into her skin, before it would disappear into the coolness of the winter. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, but her heart sank when she realised it didn't give off the electric sensation a certain aristocratic man, who was on the other side of the village did. Switching the direction of her thoughts she asked, "How is training going? How is Fay going?"
They reached the entrance to the pub, and conversations halted as they found a table in the middle that seated four. Harry dragged Ginny up to the counter and ordered their drinks as Hermione sat beside Ron. He dropped his hand onto her knee, sitting close to her as she reminded him of her questions.
"Oh! Training has been great. Fay and I sit our final test on Monday. We're getting really good at the whole 'reading each others next move' thing," he smiled fondly, giving Hermione's knee a squeeze. He tried not to notice how her short hair reminded him of Fay's red locks, passing the thought off as normal, seeing how he saw Fay for sixty hours a week.
"Does she have a boyfriend?" Hermione asked casually, looking down at her nail beds trying to act causal. But a part of her felt possessive of her boyfriend. The part that wasn't wrapped up somewhere else. All those 'we' and 'ours' had began to bring out her territorial side.
Ron shook his head. "She reckons she is waiting for some guy to notice her."
Her eyebrows shot upwards. "So she likes someone? When did you find that out?"
"Oh about two weeks ago. We went to a pub after training one day, but she didn't say who it was," he said with ease, relaxing back into his chair.
"So you went out drinking with her? Was it like a date?" she asked quickly, heat growing in her cheeks as her mind with off on it's own; she was slightly embarrassed by her possessiveness, of how her mind liked to wander to places where Ron left her for another prettier girl who was your traditional woman, and liked serving her partner, the kind of woman Hermione was not.
Ron laughed. "No way, love," he joked, running his hand further up her leg for emphasis. "You're the only gal for me."
Hermione's insides twisted. She was caught in a moment of turmoil, unsure of how she felt.
"Can we talk somewhere, please Ron?" she asked quietly, pushing his hand off her leg and standing up. Ron looked up surprised, not reading Hermione's thoughts the way he was so easily able to with his partner. She grabbed his hand, just to reassure him she wasn't mad.
He stood wordlessly and led the way out, holding the door open for her. He caught Harry's eye on the way out. They walked into the cool of the morning and rounded the side of the pub to a less busy street, and stood under the shade of an oak tree.
"Is everything okay, beautiful?" Ron asked nervously, reaching out to touch her, but she stepped out of his reach.
"I love you, Ron," Hermione whispered quietly, her eyes downcast, as tears pooled in her eyes. She took a deep breath and looked straight into his bright blue eyes. "Do you remember when you dated Lavender and we weren't talking because I was so angry at you, but then you drank that stupid potion and nearly died, and started saying my name in your sleep?"
He nodded slowly; he felt extremely uncomfortable, as he had no idea where she was taking this conversation. Hermione didn't know where it was going either, but she was relying on fate to sort this one out, since every time she let it dictate her life, rather than herself, it seemed to work out, even though she was sceptical at its existence. "I use that moment as my happiest memory when I conjure a patronus," she whispered so quietly, her words were almost lost to the wind.
Ron stepped forward and reached out tentatively for her, and this time she let him pull her against his broad, warm chest. He tucked her newly cropped hair behind her ear gently. Drawing strength from her, he took a deep breath and let it go slowly. "Come for a walk with me."
It was more of an order, than a question, but Hermione didn't mind him taking the lead. She was tired of leading everything. She wasn't sure of the conversation she had planned, but she did mean what she said. She loved Ron, and would always love him. He would always protect her, but her heart thumped at times with a longing for another. But she refused to tell him anything about that until she was sure herself of what she felt for the Head Boy. She did, however know she was sure she loved Ron deeply.
He lead her down the lane and over to the look out steps, the one that lead up the side of the mountain, which overlooked the valley. The climb took about five minutes to finish but as they reached the top Hermione looked around. It was empty, as students all frocked to stores for now. The Lookout was a ledge that was about three metres deep that jutted out the side of the mountain, and had the most beautiful view. The valley and lake stretched out before them and it took Hermione's breath away.
"Hermione." Ron's voice was calm, collected but serious. She turned to him slowly, drinking in the features of his face: the crookedness to his nose, the strength in his jaw and the fullness in his cheeks. Ron reached his hands out and held onto both of hers, facing him front on. He breathed deeply and looked at their joined hands, his eye lashes kissing his cheeks as he did. Tears slowly filled his eyes, and fell one by one onto the backs of Hermione's hands. She was startled by the direction their walk was taking. She rarely saw Ron cry. She reached out and put her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her palm and took a deep breath. Exhaling deeply, he blew the scent of peppermint toothpaste over her. One of her most treasured smells.
"Hermione Jean Granger. To me you are the most wonderful, trustworthy, gentle woman I have ever come to know. You love all creatures great and small, and will defend even the worst so that they will be treated equally. I have loved you since I was thirteen, but I only truly began to recognise the depth of it as we begun the last several weeks alone. I have come to realise how much I rely on you. You bring calmness to my thoughts and you help me learn and grow. And I could think of no one better for me to spend the rest of my life with," he said strongly and boldly, despite the tightness in his throat from crying. He dropped down onto one knee, as birds flew past, singing to one another in happiness. In slow motion he let go of Hermione's small dainty hands and retrieved from his pocket a single ring.
He looked up at her, love radiating from his face as more tears gathered in his eyes. Hermione's hands flew to her face in shock, as she watched the man who held a piece of her heart hold out an antique looking white gold ring, laced with roses, small diamonds interlinked with all the leaves. Her breath caught in her throat as he whispered:
"Will you Marry me?"
Her mind was clear as she whispered a hoarse, "Yes." As she realised what was happening, she said it again, and again and again. "Yes, yes, yes!" Tears spilled down her cheeks as she repeated that one word. That one word that meant everything to the man who had just poured his heart out.
On the side of a mountain that overlooked her beautiful home, with the man of her dreams kneeling before her Hermione cried out.
"Of course I'll marry you, you big oaf!"