A/N: A massive thank you to everyone that's read, reviewed, favorited, and put this story on alert thus far. It's really gratifying to see such a positive reaction already. Hopefully the rest of the story will not disappoint!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter because if I did, I would not have student loans. But alas, I am not J.K. Rowling and I do have student loans. On the plus side, I have fruit snacks.
"The First Kiss (During Which There's Not a War Going On)"
8 May 1998
It had been the second longest day of the longest week of the longest year of Hermione's life, and it wasn't over yet. Fred Weasley's funeral had been a solemn affair, the culmination of a tense and emotional week. It was strange, Hermione thought, how much could change in just seven days. One week ago, Voldemort was still murdering muggleborns. One week ago, they didn't know Harry was a horcrux. One week ago, they thought Snape was a Death Eater. One week ago, Fred was still alive. One week ago, Remus and Tonks were tending to Teddy. One week ago, Hermione had never seen Ron Weasley cry. Now, Voldemort was gone. Now, Harry had died, and then come back to save them all less than an hour later. Now, they knew that Snape had been perhaps the most courageous of them all. Now, Fred was gone. Now, Teddy was an orphan. And now, Hermione had seen Ron cry twice, most recently several hours ago as they laid Fred to rest.
Although the funeral was one of the most heartbreaking things Hermione had ever witnessed, the celebration of Fred's life that followed was as filled with hope as anyone could have wished it to be under the present circumstances. The show of fireworks set off by a teary-eyed but laughing George combined with copious amounts of firewhiskey had led to a level of festivity that would have made Fred proud. Although the raw grief that had been the dominating emotion for the past week was not far from anyone's minds, tears of mourning had gradually turned to tears of mirth as countless stories of Fred were recalled all around by the dozens of family members and friends that were crammed into the ground level of the Burrow. Hermione, having opted to consume butterbeer rather than the more potent Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, was splitting her time between observing the events with amusement from her position at the kitchen table and keeping an eye on a slightly intoxicated Ron, who was currently across the room chatting loudly and amicably with Charlie and Hagrid.
While she was glad that Ron seemed now to be in high spirits, Hermione knew that to say the past week had been very difficult for him would be an understatement. In the hours following the war, they'd spent almost the entirety of their time together. They were normally with Harry or Ginny, helping to clean up the grounds, but they'd had a bit of time on their own to talk, mostly about the war. It was during one of these talks that Hermione had seen Ron cry for the first time. She hadn't known how to handle it, so she had simply sat with him, held his hand, and cried too. Neither of them had spoken of it afterwards, and upon their arrival at the Burrow two days after the battle, Ron had taken to spending almost all of his time either alone in his room or degnoming the garden, the latter of which was a cumbersome and undesirable task considering how many weeks the house had been abandoned. Hermione supposed these were his ways of grieving, and therefore chose not to pester him. Although she wished he would open up and talk to her, she remembered all too well his reprimands back in their fifth and sixth years. He had insisted back then that it would not do to force Harry to talk about the deaths of Sirius or Cedric. So, in the days after the death of Fred, she decided it would be best to follow Ron's own advice and allow him his space, which was precisely the reason she was observing him from across the room rather than standing supportively at his side.
Although this was not the ideal arrangement, Hermione couldn't allow herself to be too upset. He wasn't entirely pushing her away, after all. In every moment that he wasn't hiding up in his room, he was virtually glued to her side. Often he would put an arm around her shoulders as they sat together, and he had taken to offering tight hugs before bed each night. And during Fred's service, his hand had gripped hers so tightly it was as if they had been fused together. While selfishly she had hoped that their kiss during the battle would have immediately changed their relationship, she knew that romance must be the furthest thing from his mind right now. So much had been going on since their mutual best friend had ended a war that had begun before any of them had been born. Ron and Hermione had barely had time to process what had happened, let alone get up to anything…else.
As a result, they had not shared another kiss since the battle. A year ago, this might have made Hermione feel insecure (which she still did, if she was being honest with herself), but the look he had given her after she kissed him in the Room of Requirement was enough to assure her that he did indeed feel the same way she did. Hermione had waited years for him to show definitive signs of returning her feelings, and now that he had, she knew she could handle waiting a few days, or even weeks, for the feelings to materialize into a relationship. She sensed a sort of understanding between them, an understanding that there would be a "them" once the dust had settled. It was inevitable now, only a matter of time. Trying to start a relationship in the wake of a war was never going to be an easy task. After all, nothing between them had ever been particularly easy, but it was worth it.
As she pondered these things while watching Ron closely (strictly in order to watch for any signs of overindulgence, she had to remind herself), his eyes made contact with hers from across the crowded room. She blushed at having been caught staring, but his face only brightened at the sight of her. He jerked his head slightly, an invitation for her to join him, which she quickly obliged. If he was willing to let her in, she'd be damned if she'd pass up the opportunity—she had done just that far too many times in their youth, and Hermione Granger was not one to make the same mistake repetitively. She strode purposefully across the room and stopped at Ron's side. When she reached him, he immediately wrapped one of his long arms around her shoulders and gave her a quick but affectionate squeeze. "I was just telling this lot about spew and your ideas about magical creatures—sorry, beings'—rights," he said proudly with a slight slur in his voice.
Hermione's immediate instinct was to correct him on the proper pronunciation of S.P.E.W., but she held her tongue when she turned to face Ron and saw that he was beaming at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was real. The part of her that was still an eighteen year old girl caused her to blush again, and she appreciatively leaned into him a bit. "You were talking about me?" she asked softly, touched by the fact that he'd even mentioned S.P.E.W. in a serious context.
"'Course I was. You're Hermione Granger and you're bloody brilliant. why wouldn't I wanna talk about you? But Charlie was just saying he's got mates that used to work for the magical creatures department of the ministry, and once it's back up and running you could do some real damage! Well, not damage, but, but…" he trailed off, still looking at her in a way that made her cheeks redden.
Hagrid nodded his agreement. "Never really thought you were interested in magical creatures, but I s'pose someone's got ter do the legislatin' bit of it and you know a lot more than any of those dunderheads in the ministry."
Hermione smiled only a little uncomfortably at Hagrid's praise and then glanced at Charlie, who was clearly handling his alcohol better than Ron and was regarding his youngest brother with amusement. "And Ron's right, you know, I do have some friends that could help get you in the door if that's what you want to do," Charlie told her, "and according to Ron here, the sun basically shines out of your arse, so you'd do a lot of good to that department. They'd love to have you."
"OI, don't talk about her arse!" Ron shouted, in what Hermione could only guess was supposed to be a valiant tone, pointing a threatening finger at his brother. "And watch yourself, m'lady doesn't like swearing, she takes the bloody piss out of me when I do it."
"Honestly Ron, I can handle hearing rude words," Hermione said, not missing the irony of his outburst, as Charlie and Hagrid positively howled at Ron's casual use of the term "m'lady."
"Can't say any though, can you?" Ron challenged her, raising his eyebrows.
"You know perfectly well that I have no problem telling you when you're being an arse," she responded primly.
Ron looked positively giddy at the sound of her using such language, and proceeded to giggle madly and bury his head into her neck, undoubtedly getting a mouthful of her wild hair. As if her face weren't already red enough.
"But honestly, you ought to watch your language," she muttered, the prefect inside of her taking over.
"You said arse," came Ron's muffled voice in her right ear.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Perhaps Ron was a little beyond slightly intoxicated. Hagrid's chuckles continued to shake the chair he was gripping, but Charlie noticed Hermione's discomfort and had the decency to compose himself quickly. He shook his head in amusement as he said, "I wish you the best of luck, Hermione. He's a bit of a handful, but he's completely mad about you. And if you need any career advice, you know where to find me. I'm sure you'd be brilliant." With that, he went off to join Harry, Ginny, and Lee Jordan in a rather lively debate about the legality of various Quidditch fouls.
Meanwhile, Ron had apparently become quite overcome with affection for Hermione; in the moments since Charlie had left, he'd managed to wrap his right arm around her waist as well, pulling her firmly into him. His face was somehow buried even further into her shoulder, and he still seemed to be giggling and hiccupping. Hermione carefully extricated one of her arms and placed it on his back in an effort to keep them steady, for Ron would undoubtedly stumble a bit if he tried to move, and she was supporting quite a bit of his weight.
The tears that had been in Hagrid's eyes for the majority of the day seemed to thicken as he regarded them fondly and said, "Always knew it'd be you two. I remember the first day yeh came into my hut, bickerin' 'bout this an' that. Reminded me of his parents," he jerked his head in Ron's direction, "Harry's too, a bit." With that, Hagrid lost his composure, smothered them in a bone-crushing embrace (during which Hermione doubted she could possibly be any more uncomfortable), and then he too left them.
When, a couple seconds later, Hermione noticed what felt suspiciously like Ron's lips pressing into her neck, she decided that enough was enough and nudged him up off her shoulder, pulling away from his embrace and taking his drink from him.
"Oi, I wasn't done with that," he protested, grabbing halfheartedly and unsuccessfully at the half-empty glass. "I think you've had quite enough," Hermione responded calmly, vanishing the contents of the glass and casting a quick 'aguamenti' charm. "Water will be kinder to you come morning."
Ron pouted but obeyed, gulping down the water in a single mouthful and then handing it back to Hermione to be refilled. It became evident in the hour that followed that the switch to water was a good decision. Ron seemed to have calmed down and was no longer acting as brazen as before. He did, however, stay close to Hermione as they mingled with the guests, keeping a hand either on the small of her back or enclosed in her own. It was about half ten (they had just finished speaking with Luna about the effect she believed the nargles had played in Voldemort's downfall) when Hermione felt Ron lean down and mutter into her ear, slurring only a little now, "I haven't seen George in awhile."
She turned her head to look at him questioningly. "Do you think he's alright?"
"Dunno," Ron responded, "but I think I'm gonna go check outside for him. Cover for us, will you? I don't reckon he'd want Mum to worry."
Hermione nodded and gave his hand what she hoped was an encouraging squeeze. He smiled widely at her again, dropping a wet kiss on her left cheek, and turned to slip quietly out the back door. She kept her eyes on the door through which he'd left a little longer than necessary, before smiling to herself and turning on her heel to talk to Ginny, who mercifully did not acknowledge the elder girl's expression other than raising her eyebrow and exchanging a knowing smile with Harry.
It was nearly midnight before the majority of the guests began to clear out, and Ron and George still had not returned. Hermione was becoming increasingly worried by the minute; she had thought that Ron wouldn't be gone longer than half an hour. Mrs. Weasley had noticed the absence of her sons by this point, and she was continuously casting anxious glances out the window.
After Andromeda Tonks and Teddy bid their goodbyes, thus leaving the semi-permanent residents of the house to themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley joined Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Percy at the kitchen table. Bill, Fleur, and Charlie had gone back to Shell Cottage so as not to crowd the Burrow. It was an unspoken rule that no one would be sleeping in the twins' old room, so George had taken over Bill and Charlie's old room. As she took her seat, Mrs. Weasley looked at the others questioningly. Everyone knew what she wanted to know, and everyone had a fairly accurate guess as to what the answer was, but no one seemed willing to speak.
Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and said in a forced and awkwardly high voice, "Ron and George just went to get some air. I expect they'll be in shortly." A murmur of acknowledgement swept the table, and the group then fell into a tense silence, save for the sound of Percy nervously tapping his foot, Ginny drumming her fingers on the table, and Mrs. Weasley taking deep, calming breaths while clutching her husband's hand, which was lying on her shoulder. Harry, meanwhile, was staring straight ahead with a hard expression.
Any lightheartedness that had been brought about by reminiscing had long since gone; it was as though the absence of Ron and George had pulled the group sharply back to reality. Hermione, figuring that for once there was nothing else she could be doing, settled her gaze on the door and began to wait.
As the minutes dragged by, Hermione's anxiety level began to rise. If there was one thing Hermione felt she could not handle well, it was a situation in which she was not in control. Watching Ron and his family mourn in the days following Fred's death had been difficult, and being unable to do anything to make the situation better had left Hermione feeling useless and worse than she already did. Although the Weasleys were some of the strongest, bravest people she'd ever known, and Hermione had no doubt that they could and would make it through the hardships that had befallen them, there was no getting around the fact that their family was no longer whole, but broken. She wanted nothing more than to be able to fix everything, but unfortunately, there was not a single book in any library that could help Hermione find a solution to this problem. And now, there was nothing she could do but sit at the table and stare at the door, waiting for Ron to bring his brother back.
After about ten minutes, the sound of rain pattering on the roof could be heard. Mrs. Weasley stood and crossed the room, looking out the window frantically. "Oh, I do hope they had their wands," she fretted. "Maybe I should go fetch them."
"I wouldn't, Molly," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "We said we didn't want to push him."
Molly met his eyes and nodded grimly. "Alright, but only ten more minutes. I've already lost one son this week; I'm not letting another two freeze to death." As much as she tried to cover it, no one missed the catch in her voice as she finished her sentence. Mr. Weasley joined her at the window and pulled her into an embrace, and the room was once again silent.
Nine more tense minutes passed, and Hermione's nerves had shot through the roof. The Weasley parents were just beginning to gather their cloaks when at last, the door opened. All the occupants of the kitchen stood up in anticipation.
George entered the kitchen, followed closely by Ron. Clearly they had not bothered to use their wands to keep dry, as they were both sopping wet, tracking mud into the kitchen in a way that would have made Mrs. Weasley irate on any other day. Tonight, however, she simply choked back tears and pulled each of her sons into a tight embrace.
Hermione noticed that both Ron and George had red-rimmed eyes, and she wondered briefly if that was the result of crying or of the alcohol. More likely than not, she thought, it was a mixture of the two. Hermione had to wonder what had happened between the two brothers, but she knew that asking was out of the question. Whatever had been said or done, both of the boys (no, men) seemed to be carrying themselves differently. It was hard to define, but it seemed to Hermione that their heads were held a bit higher than before.
Once he'd be released by his mother, Ron's eyes drifted to Hermione. She gave him a smile that she had intended to be encouraging, but that felt strangled and half-hearted. With an indefinable expression on his face, Ron strode toward her with more confidence and purpose than ever before. Before she could register what was happening, he had kissed her, chastely but purposefully, full on the mouth. It lasted a little longer than was perhaps proper when in front of one's parents, but nevertheless, it was over before Hermione had the time to fully react and appreciate the strange contrast between the warmth of his mouth and the coolness of the rain on his skin. Any misgivings she might have had regarding their relationship were erased when he pulled back and croaked in a slightly slurred but serious voice, "I love you, Hermione." Before she could respond in kind, he'd bent down, kissed her soundly once more, and then set off up the stairs for bed, leaving her to stand in the kitchen, wide-eyed in shock.
Apparently this had been the last straw for Mrs. Weasley, who immediately burst into tears and smothered Hermione in a hug. Ginny had an annoyingly smug but pleased look on her face. When she turned to Harry for an explanation, he merely said, "I've seen worse," in a resigned voice before swiftly kissing Ginny on the cheek and following Ron upstairs.
Hermione spent a considerable portion of the night that followed wondering if Ron would even remember the details of what had happened. Although Ron did look like hell the next morning, she was greeted with a kiss on the cheek as he sat next to her at the kitchen table and reached to spread jam on her toast for her. From that moment on, Hermione Granger became Ron Weasley's girlfriend, because there are some things you can't share without ending up falling in love with each other, and spending seven years bickering and exchanging embarrassed but charged glances, all while helping your mutual best friend defeat a psychotic dark wizard, is one of them.
"Borderline Rant But Necessary" A/N:
"Fun" fact about this chapter—I've been constantly writing, editing, and rewriting it for more than four months. Compare this to the prologue, which was written, edited, and posted within three or four days.
I've always been fairly content with this chapter, but I could never quite get it down perfectly. Part of that stemmed from the fact that it was in Hermione's POV and she just wouldn't stop thinking, which makes for a lot of long paragraphs, haha. But mainly, imagining what went on directly after the war is a bit abstract since I've obviously never been in remotely the same situation, so I drew a lot on my own personal experiences with losing loved ones, and hopefully I've done the characters justice. I tried to balance the raw grief and pain with a bit of tangible hope and lightheartedness throughout.
Please let me know what you think, agree or disagree! The next chapter is also fully written and should be up in the first half of next week. Thanks for reading. :)