A/N: This is it, the final chapter for this fic - thanks so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, if you like what you're reading, please leave me some feedback!
July 26, 1997
The left side of the bed was still warm when he woke up, and all of the blankets lay crumpled on top of him.
She must've just left.
Early morning sunlight was streaming into his window, but he barely noticed its glare in his eyes. Last night had been better than he'd ever imagined it could be. For the most part, he slept more soundly than he had in recent memory, but the few times he woke up, he was almost too happy to fall back asleep.
Hermione remained next to him all night. At one point, almost all of her upper body was on top of his, her ear situated directly on top of his heart. The lower portion of the bed had been a mess of tangled sheets as her legs weaved over and under his own. Her hair was constantly tickling his nose, but it smelled amazing. Rosemary and citrus scents filled his nostrils all night, helping him drift off peacefully.
As sad as he was that she had returned to Ginny's room, he knew it was for the best. Nothing could compare to the feeling he had when sleeping comfortably in his bed wrapped in his arms, but he certainly wasn't about to let his mother find out that it had happened. She didn't even let Bill and Fleur sleep in the same room, and they were already engaged!
But it was clear to him that they'd both needed the comfort of the other person in the lead-up to such a stressful day. No matter the risk of being discovered, he wouldn't have done anything differently. If recent events had taught him anything, it was that life was too short. Too short not to spend with the people you care about. And he was more convinced than ever that he knew exactly who it was that he wanted to spend his life with.
Once the predawn glow transitioned to the bright light of morning, he pulled himself out of bed and into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face. His stomach still felt uneasy with the knowledge that in several short hours they would be attempting to rescue Harry. But even that couldn't tarnish his mood completely. Not after the events of the previous night.
The breakfast table was packed but somber, and there wasn't much conversation when he arrived. Nobody was eating much as evidenced by the large stack of sausages remaining on the table. Hermione was already there nibbling at her toast and marmalade, and when Ron sat down next to her, she smiled at him briefly before turning away with a pink tinge to her cheeks.
"Eat up, everyone, eat up!" Mrs Weasley said as she bustled over from the stove and took her seat. "You'll all be needing your strength for this evening!"
With reluctance, the sausages started disappearing, but they often ended up half-eaten on the side of plates by the time the meal was over. Mr Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Fred, and George all apparated away to make final preparations after breakfast. Ginny, who looked to be a nervous wreck, went immediately back up to her room. Uncharacteristic sympathy swelled in Ron toward his sister as she walked away; he knew how hard it was to sit back and do nothing while waiting for the people you care about to arrive.
Ginny wasn't the only one who seemed to be having a difficult time. Mrs Weasley was still milling about the kitchen, trying to keep herself busy. Virtually all of her immediate family would be participating in what could end up being a very dangerous breakout mission that evening, and as happy as Ron was to be going along, he could only imagine how difficult it would be for his mother to have to sit at home and wait for everyone to return. It didn't help matters that she had already been upset enough about the plan he had divulged to her several days earlier.
He cleared his throat, hoping he could make the situation at least a little bit better for her. "Hey, Mum?"
"Yes, dear?" she asked flatly, not even bothering to turn around.
"I'm–I'm really sorry, you know."
A warm hand fell on top of his, and he glanced back to see Hermione urging him on. His mother stopped what she was doing and turned toward him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"I beg your pardon?"
Head held as high as he could, he spoke clearly. "I'm sorry for causing you more stress, more anxiety."
"Mmhmm…" she replied, clearly still unconvinced.
"We're still going, of course," he continued, gesturing toward Hermione. "We have to. But…I'm realizing how much harder it will be for you to not know that we're safe and sound at Hogwarts. Even though I don't think we would be safe and sound, but that's beside the point."
"You most certainly would be safer!"
The groan he wanted to release died in his throat, and he continued, his voice as level as possible. "For a time, perhaps, but not for long, I reckon. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. My point is, I'm sorry I'm making things more difficult. That's why I really wanted to get the ghoul ready, see?"
"The ghoul wouldn't be necessary if you'd listen to reason!" Mrs Weasley implored her son, leaning closer to him across the table.
"It was important to me," he said, purposefully ignoring her attempt to change his mind. "It was important that I did what I could so that my choices wouldn't make things harder for everyone. I don't want you all to be in any more danger than you already are on account of me."
"We're all in danger no matter what!"
"But this way, with the ghoul, it's simpler for you and Dad and everyone else. My absence from Hogwarts can be explained. Mum, when I saw everything Hermione had done to protect her family…it made me realize that I needed to do the same thing."
"The situations are totally different, though, Ronald!" she cried, her wide eyes peering directly at him.
"They're not, though. Not really. You know, it's funny, when I was growing up, I always worried that I didn't matter in this family–"
"Oh, stop it, you know that's not–"
"Mum, please let me finish! Everyone before me was brilliant or athletic or Head Boy or whatever, and I was just Ron. I didn't think anything I did could ever be good enough. I didn't think anything I did really mattered. But I get it now. My actions have consequences beyond myself. They affect you, all of you."
With a jolt, he pulled Hermione's hand from under the table and set it on the wooden surface in plain view of his mother. "We know the risk. We accept it. And we're of age. If we weren't absolutely sure that we had a part to play, we wouldn't be going. But that's not the case. We need to help Harry because only Harry can truly end this war. But I couldn't live with myself if I could've done something to protect all of you and didn't. So I did."
Mrs Weasley leaned back, her frame slumping down the slats of the chair. She took a deep breath and heaved a sigh before shifting her focus back to her son. "Ronald, I appreciate what you're trying to do. Really, I do. It's admirable that you're thinking of your siblings and your father and me. I just wish you could understand how difficult it is to hear what you're saying…as a mother."
The sight of tears welling up in his mum's eyes was disarming, and he nearly lost his train of thought. Next to him, Hermione was producing faint sniffing sounds as well.
"I know, Mum. Erm, well, I don't…know, but I'm trying to understand. But the same way you feel about me going? I would feel that way about Harry and Hermione going without me. I'm sure of that, even though I don't know what's going on in your head."
Hermione's warm fingers squeezed his hand, and a surge of affection for her zipped through his entire body. It felt like he'd just admitted something to her, something that he'd been keeping close to his heart for years. He couldn't risk looking back at her, especially since his face was probably almost purple.
"I understand how much your friends mean to you, dear," Mrs Weasley continued, her tone once again calm. "But you can't possibly understand that what you're asking me to accept is harder than anything else in the world. I'm a parent, that's what happens when you become a parent."
"I believe you."
The room once again fell silent as Ron's gaze locked on his mother. For the first time since he'd told his mother their plans, he was at peace. He wasn't worried about her reaction. It seemed like they had finally reached…perhaps not an understanding, but an uneasy truce. After several moments, she stood up and placed the dish towel on the countertop, her eyes glazed over.
"I'm never going to be okay with this idea," she said.
Ron nodded and slid his chair back from the table, rising as he maintained his clasp on Hermione's hand. "I know. And I'm never going to change my mind."
"I know."
Without another word, his mother spun and wrapped her arms around him, running her hands through his hair the same he remembered her doing when he was young. "Be safe. Be safe tonight, be safe always. Do you understand?"
He nodded against her shoulder, trying to keep the tears from flowing. As soon as she let go of him, she turned her attention to Hermione, wrapping her in the same hug. Apparently, neither of them had any self-consciousness about crying, and soon both women were bawling and gripping each other as tight as possible.
It was real. It was almost too real. Everything was happening so fast. They were hurtling headlong toward conflict and uncertainty in a way that made Ron feel more uneasy than he ever had in his life, but his resolve didn't waver. It couldn't. He needed to be there for Harry, and that was all there was to it.
Once his mother and Hermione broke apart, Mrs Weasley dried her face and hurried out of the room and up the stairs.
"That was very sweet of you," Hermione offered, rubbing his back through his thin t-shirt.
Ron still couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with her, not after his profession of devotion to her and Harry. Instead, he shrugged and sat back down. "I guess. Not sure how much good it did, but at least I tried."
"I think it really helped," she said as she took a seat next to him. "Your mother is never going to agree with you, but for the first time, she seemed to accept your reasoning."
"Maybe. I know I'm doing the right thing, but I hate that it's causing so many problems."
Once again, she picked up his hand in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles. "This was never going to be easy. We've learned that together, right?"
"Yeah, you're right," he answered with a chuckle.
"Exactly. Ron, you've been so helpful to me when I was feeling horrible about the decisions that I was forced to make. I hope that I can do the same for you. So what do you say? Want to play Wizard's Chess? Read Quidditch magazines together? Go for a fly?"
He smiled at her, his eyes finally meeting hers. "You hate all of those things."
"But you love them."
"Maybe…can we just go for a walk?"
Standing up from her chair, she started pulling him toward the back door. "That sounds perfect."
Once they'd slipped on their trainers and popped out the back door, they allowed their feet to guide them. The sky was bright blue and cloudless, almost mocking them with its beauty and endlessness. How could such a gorgeous day precede such a nerve-racking event?
Unlike the slow, lazy flow of the earlier days of summer, that day seemed to fly by faster than a Seeker hunting the Snitch. After their walk, Ron and Hermione returned inside for lunch. Mrs Weasley was kinder to them than she had been for the past several days, but it was clear that everyone was on edge. Nobody ate too much, and the rest of the afternoon passed by despite nothing much happening.
It wasn't until six o'clock that the rest of the Order started showing up. Remus and Tonks arrived first, followed closely thereafter by Bill and Fleur, Mad-Eye, Mundungus Fletcher, and Kingsley. Hagrid was the last to arrive, and he did his best to brighten everyone's spirits as soon as he walked into the Burrow. Admittedly, Ron and Hermione were happy to see him, but he still wasn't able to tame the nerves that everyone was feeling.
After a quick supper, everyone was preparing to leave. Mrs Weasley was checking on all of her children, giving hugs and whispering comforting words as she went. When she reached Ron, she pulled him in close, squeezing his ribcage almost to the point of discomfort.
"Be mindful of your surroundings, dear. And make sure you hold on tightly. I know you're an expert flier, but promise me that you will."
"I will, Mum," Ron replied as he returned her hug and smiled into her shoulder.
The hug and requests for safety were repeated with Hermione before she moved down the line toward Bill and Fleur. They'd all be flying away in a matter of minutes, but Ron didn't want to leave without having one more conversation with Hermione. When everyone was distracted with their goodbyes and well-wishing, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen and into the corner of the living room. His heart was going a mile a minute, but it was important to him that they had one more chance to talk before departing.
"So," he started, trying to shake the anxiety out of his hands. "This is it."
Her head dropped with a brief nod before her hazel eyes climbed his body and settled on his. "It is."
"It'll be good to see Harry again, I reckon," he said, his face lighting up with a smile.
A small laugh escaped her lips, but her expression quickly turned serious again. "I suppose."
"Things will be different around here once he shows up."
"Probably, yes."
A spark in her eye confirmed that she knew what he was talking about, however it quickly faded, replaced by a look of fear. They'd faced danger before, but as the war progressed, everything seemed more dangerous. All he wanted to do was hold her and protect her no matter where his attention was otherwise demanded. He realized that she meant so much to him that he'd rather die himself than let anything happen to her. Not that he could ever tell her that…at least not yet.
Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, mirroring her. He tried to keep his voice from catching. "You'll be careful, right?"
"I will," she responded as she closed the distance between them and fell into his waiting embrace. "You too."
"I'll do my best. Because…I…I can't lose you, Hermione."
A sniffing sound was muffled by his body, but the dampness spreading across his shirt gave her away. "I can't lose you, either."
His arms wrapped tighter around her, almost of their own accord. Sleeping in the same bed the previous night confirmed for him how perfectly her body fit against his, and once he'd experienced that sensation, he would do anything to enjoy it again. She was the only one he wanted.
But for that to ever be a possibility, they both needed to make it back in one piece. It was more important than anything they'd gone through so far, although the war would surely continue the next day. War doesn't wait for relationships to develop, it crushes them with its unjust fury.
A voice from the kitchen was calling their names. The time had come.
Ron pulled back from the embrace and ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears. "Ready?"
"I'm ready," she answered.
She gave his forearms one last squeeze before taking his hand. Together, they walked back into the kitchen and leaned against the counters for final words of advice from Kingsley.
"Stay together. Watch out for each other. And–"
"Constant vigilance!" Mad-Eye interrupted.
Kingsley nodded and buckled his cloak over his chest. "Constant vigilance indeed. Alright, the time has come. Let's go."
