Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing of hers! The scenes listed below are from the Harry Potter series. More specifically, the kiss between Ron and Hermione was taken from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
A/N: This chapter may be a little confusing. We've already heard some of Hermione's thoughts about their relationship, and I wanted Ron to have that opportunity as well. This chapter begins with the last time Ron woke with Hermione in his arms, and jumps through their history together. Next chapter will pick up to the current time. I thought it would fit well here. Sorry for the confusion!
Chapter 26
Ron awoke to a gentle pecking at his window. He peeked his eye open and groaned slightly at Pig, the small owl, warning him that it was time to wake. When the owl saw he'd woken up, the bird flew downward to the kitchen window. The sun hadn't risen yet, but he knew he needed to get up soon, or he'd miss his Portkey.
However, he didn't want to leave his childhood bed. Not with what it contained now. Snuggled to his chest was Hermione's bare back. She was breathing softly, and sleeping peacefully in his arms, wrapped protectively around her. One acted as a pillow under her bushy hair, as the other was draped delicately across her naked middle, resting closely to her full breasts. She laid one arm by her face, while the other laid empty by his, her hold on his hand had relaxed through the night.
He smiled at the snoozing creature he loved. She was so beautiful; exquisitely so. He had wanted to tell her so many things, he wanted to do so many things with her. Yet, he waited until the night before he left to do anything, even then, she was a step ahead of him and confessed her feeling for him. He knew for a long time that she was special. Why else would he had gone with Harry to find that troll? Or sacrifice his knight so she and Harry could move on in the chess game? Or try to curse Malfoy with a broken wand? Or faced his fear of spiders to help find the solution to get her unpetrified? He even attempted to defend her against Hagrid's half-brother! Yes, he had always known that she was one special witch.
But then, something happened. He had always known he liked being around her; they were best friends after all! But, when the Bulgarian Quidditch star took a liking to her, Ron felt something odd. He had felt jealousy before, of course he had. He grew up with so many brothers, living in their shadows. He never studied enough, never followed the rules enough, was never smart enough, never funny enough, never the girl his mother hoped for, never anything enough, really. Even at school, he was never good enough. Being from the family he was from, and having misfit friends; he was just too average. Of course, he felt loved by his family. But, living in all their shadows made jealousy a friend all too familiar to Ron.
So, when the Yule Ball came and he saw his best friend in a light he never had before, the breath was knocked out of him. He liked seeing her that way. Not only did she highlight her beauty, but she looked so confident; making her even more stunning. He didn't think he'd ever see her like that unless she had just finished an exam. That's when it kicked in that she wasn't there with him, but the bloody Victor Krum. That roaring green beast came with vengeance. Leaving him confused and questioning why he was feeling such a way toward his best friend. He sorted that it must be jealousy that Hermione was a friend to Krum when Ron wasn't. Yeah, that was it. However, he couldn't quite figure out why he suddenly despised the Quidditch star.
Then it happened again. This time, it wasn't with a Bulgarian athlete that Ron admired. It was a prat who Ron couldn't stand: Cormac McLaggen. How could Hermione ask him to Slughorn's party? Yes, Ron was with Lavender, but they still could have gone together. So, when he heard that Hermione was going with the ponce git, envy struck again. Yet this time, he couldn't blame it on the fact that he was a fan of the bloke. He loathed the prat and didn't like how he spoke about Hermione. He realized it one night. He liked Hermione; his best friend, as more than a best friend.
This was a revolution to Ron.
He spent the next few months trying to figure out how to break up with Lavender, whom he never truly cared for, and felt like an arse. Now, he realized he only had ever had eyes for Hermione. Luckily, Lavender noticed his distance and interest elsewhere, helping him out more than he could say.
As the years passed, he realized things were only going to get more dangerous. He wanted to show that he fancied her. No wait, loved her. Thinking about how little time they could have, and the massive pressure that rested on the three teenager's shoulders, he couldn't deny it anymore. But, he couldn't just tell her. They were preparing to leave for Merlin knew how long, finding items they didn't completely know of. It was a somber time and they could all feel the seriousness growing around them. Who knew if she even felt the same anyway? With his luck, she's have her heart set on Harry.
Ron knew that would destroy him.
He remembered back to the last really happy time he had with the witch. He had gathered the nerve to ask her to dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding. She smiled brilliantly in return, taking his hand as he led her to the dance floor. It was like he was floating on air with her. She was so close; he was holding her waist, she looked up at him with her massive brown eyes, grinning like she was the happiest woman in the world. He was clumsy, but she naturally guided him, and he followed her perfectly.
Later however, everything changed. It didn't feel like the same night as a ball of light flew in and the storm of Death Eaters were attacking. He only had one thought on his mind. He frantically looked around for Hermione, standing out by wearing a brilliant red dress. He had to get to her, he needed to find her: to make sure she was safe and with him.
When they were at Grimmauld Place, tensions were high. Harry would disappear for hours at a time in one of the empty rooms. Hermione would curl up in a chair and read one of the books she had brought with her. The brunette thought she had convinced him that she was actually reading, but Ron knew better. He watched as her eyes were wide and flitted around the page, not really focusing on the text. She fussed about what was to come. Was she strong enough? Did she prepare enough? Ron could tell she was worried. He looked around the room trying to think of some way to distract her for a bit, when he noticed a dusty piano across the den. He asked her to teach him a how to play a song, effectively distracting her from her thoughts for some time.
Later that night, he laid on the floor, trying his best to sleep. He knew how difficult the future seemed, so slumber continued to evade him. Luckily, it looked as if his best mate had finally fallen asleep, getting the rest he desperately needed. As he lay there in the dark, he heard a faint sniffling. He turned his head to where Hermione was lying above him on the settee. He could barely make out her fine features in the shadows of the bluebell flames Hermione made floating in the air, but he could see her cheeks shimmering, and her chest moving in jerky movements. Then he looked down to see her hand, hanging limply off the sofa. He reached up and gently took her hand. She sucked in her breath at the touch, and whimpered as she quietly cried. They stayed like that for a few moments.
"I'm scared Ron." She whispered to the darkness. Ron's heart ached from her words, and that she was sharing with him so openly.
"Me too, Hermione." She squeezed his hand tightly as they both held in words they wished they could express to one another.
His thoughts turned to Malfoy Manor. He held her tighter as he did.
He could almost hear the screams of the witch he loved, crucio after crucio. He recalled how he screamed and clawed with bloody fingers as each shriek echoed through the dungeon. He thought he was going mad. He did everything he could, but it was hopeless. He stood shouting her name, banging on the bars, doing anything he could for her to know he wanted to help her. That he was there for her. That he loved her... Seeing her lying there, so small in the large room, exhausted, bloody, and being offered to the werewolf for more than just a meal. He couldn't stand it any longer. He rushed to rescue her as soon as he could, she was excessively hurt, conscious, but just barely.
The next few days were a whirlwind for Ron. He stayed by her side as much as they would allow him. When she was dressed, and checked for further damage upon her body, Fleur insisted he leave for her modesty. Ron refused, and compromised by standing with his back toward them until she was finished. They all began to worry after she hadn't woken after three days. Fleur wondered if there was some sort of traumatic damage that her brain couldn't process in its current state, leaving her unconscious to the world. After all, she had been tortured for hours, they only had an idea of how many crucios she acquired… Not to mention the physical torture she encountered. There had only been a handful of witches and wizards who had survived as many as she had; many of them had gone mad. They pumped her full of potions and vials. They performed spells and charms- anything they could think of to help Hermione recover and heal from the torment she had endured.
One night, Ron was sleeping in the chair next to the bed she was lying in, when he woke to see her shifting her position, moaning and mumbling incoherently. He rose instantly, holding her hand and whispering to her, trying to calm the witch. She was sobbing, now frantically moving about in the mattress, and Ron began to worry, thinking he should call for assistance.
"RON!" Her cry burst through, and her eyes snapped open, to see the redhead's worried expression watching her. He gently cradled her face and looked into her eyes, relieved that she was awake. He whispered soft, reassuring words to her as she calmed, finding she was no longer in danger.
That's when the flood of what she'd been through hit her full force. Sobs wracked her body as she curled into herself. Ron wrapped his arms around the woman he cared for most, wishing he could have done more to keep her from the horrid pain.
Days passed, then weeks. Her body was damaged and sick; it had gone through much more than they anticipated. Not only did her physical health concern them, as the time wore on, so did her emotional state. She seldom spoke to anyone other than quietly thanking them when they cared for her, which was the only thing that Ron could recognize from the old Hermione, always being so formal and polite when needed. Most days she would just lay in bed, curled up with her knees to her chest, covered in a thick blanket. Sometimes she would sleep, which they all agreed she needed. But, other times, she would just lie there staring off into the distance, her gaze hazy. Sometimes even silently shedding tears, not bothering to wipe them away. Ron would give her some time alone when she was like this. Truth was, it killed him to see her like that. She felt so empty... it was not the Hermione he knew. He couldn't be there so instead he'd take a walk on the shoreline and pretend that the moisture on his face was from the misty sea.
Time drew on and Harry was becoming antsy on what they were going to do, knowing Voldemort was only getting stronger and gaining advantages. This was the first time since the winter that Ron left, that the best friends truly argued. Ron insisted they needed to put their focus on Hermione's care, and as Harry agreed, he also believed that they needed to form some sort of a plan of what to do next. But Ron couldn't see past how she was currently, and neither of them wanted to voice their deepest fear: that she might not get better.
Ron tried harder then. He thought about everything Hermione loved. So, one evening, he lit a candle on the side table, and brought in a steaming cup of tea with honey. He sat in the chair beside her, and glanced at the witch. She was curled up, her eyes staring past him, and wrapped in a thick knit blanket. He felt it was a bit more promising than usual because she was facing the side he had been sitting in their entire stay at Shell Cottage. He cracked open one of the books she had packed away in her beaded bag, and began to read. He wasn't the best reader, especially aloud. But, he knew he would do anything for this woman. And if that meant sounding like an eejit for her, then so be it.
Nothing changed immediately, but the more Ron came in and read, or just told stories to her, the more focused she became. Eventually, as her physical health strengthened, so did the rest of her. She started to talk to him and the rest of the family, eating more, moving around. In just a few weeks' time, she was healthy enough to go on walks by the water with him. It was at that time they started planning their next moves in the hunt...
There were screams everywhere. They had just collected a load of Basilisk fangs when Ron had remembered the House Elves in the kitchens. As soon as he mentioned they should go warn them, he heard an echoing clatter, and saw a flash of brown curls before he was pounced on by the witch he had fancied for years. It took Ron by surprise, having the soft, lavish lips against his own. But, he quickly responded, enthusiastically at that. He heard Harry mention something, but was much too consumed with the woman in his arms. He pulled her closer and lifted the witch from the ground, deepening the kiss.
"Oi! There's a war going on here!" They slowly broke apart at Harry's words. Ron was dazed and happier than ever, as Hermione smiled luminously back at him. He could hardly believe that it had finally happened. He and Hermione Granger, the woman he'd been in love with for years, had finally kissed.
Then the war was done. He couldn't believe it. It was just raging hours ago... and then it was done. Practically years of fighting against evil in the world, and it was destroyed. He should have felt like the happiest man alive, jumping for joy and celebrating their victory. But, with war comes loss.
And oh, so many were lost. Ron had a difficult time adjusting to the aftermath of the war. Many classmates, professors, and friends had perished. The death that had affected him most was his brother's. He cringed every time he thought of it. Ron spent much of his time alone, away from his family who was grieving in their own way. He liked to walk outside, and sit in the orchard under a tree, going between thinking about the moments spent with his brother, and trying not to think of him. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but at the same time, he didn't want to be alone.
Hermione knew him better than he did himself, and would often seek him out. She'd offer a sad smile, and sit next to him. Sometimes, they would sit next to each other in silence. Other times she would hold his hand, or he'd wrap an arm around her. If he felt like talking, they would talk. If he cried, she spilt silent tears with him. She began by kissing away his tears. It was something that innocent, that simple. It grew into soothing kisses that took his mind away from his thoughts. Then into moments they'd steal away to seclusion: the shed, the orchard, the den after everyone had gone to bed. Ron thoroughly enjoyed those moments together. But, one night, he noticed that he was much more…demanding than usual. It was becoming much harder to control himself when he was with Hermione like this. That was the last time they had exchanged embraces.
Ron knew he didn't want to hurt her by doing something under his attraction without telling her how he felt. He needed to find peace with Fred's death before he could have that talk with Hermione. No longer did he seek solitude, but spent more time with his family, and Harry. He made sure that he stayed in his room after he went to bed for the night, no longer having midnight meetings in the den. He could tell she was hurting from this, and he tried to make things as normal as possible between them.
A few weeks after this, Hermione announced that she was going to find her parents in Australia and restore their memories. Ron was surprised that she had not wanted to do it sooner. As she stood in front of Harry and Ron, she looked determined, but still sad. Ron instantly agreed that he'd go with her, as did Harry. Hermione adamantly declined, saying she would be fine on her own and they really needed to be home with the family. They refused to back down, and after a few rows, the three all went to Australia to help find Hermione's parents.
They had help from the Ministry in locating them, and Hermione restored Hugo and Jean Granger's memories successfully. The reunion was tremendously emotional. At first, they had been upset, they couldn't understand why their only daughter would use her magic against them. Ron became defensive when Hermione couldn't speak through her tears any longer. Harry was able to sort out the situation enough for them to calm and talk about what events took place. It took her parents some time to accept what had been done. But in the end, they were relieved to have their daughter back.
The trio spent several days there. Hermione focused on spending time with her parents, while she stayed in their guest room, to get more quality time. Harry and Ron stayed in a nice hotel close to the Granger's Australian home. They were to keep an eye on the Grangers and make sure there was no trouble with any possible threats. The two would often tag along with the family, and always joined them for dinner. During this time, Ron knew he needed to let her be with her parents, but he also knew she was acting differently around him, withdrawn almost. He hated to think he caused as much damage as he had dreaded doing. He knew he needed to speak with her.
A few days into their trip, he and Harry had been Owled from Kingsley offering them positions in the Auror Academy. They had both been surprised to see they didn't have to go through the application process, which itself could take months. Then, they saw the date to leave for their training was only a week away. The best mates were apprehensive about telling Hermione; they didn't want to spoil her time with her family. They pulled her away one morning while her parents were working to tell her. When they did, Ron momentarily saw an expression he couldn't read. She instantly plastered a fake smile on her face and gave genuine congratulations insisting they go. They weren't sure if they should believe that she wanted them to go, but she convinced them that she'd be fine and that it was an opportunity they couldn't pass up.
On the last day they stayed, they went to a restaurant on the coast, where they all took a walk on the beach afterward. Ron remembered strolling behind Hermione who had linked arms with her father. Harry and Jean were walking close by them, discussing muggle things which Ron didn't include himself in. He focused on the witch in front of him, realizing he only had a few days before would be leaving for months. He knew he needed to talk with her before he left.
Ron had thought about his past with the woman he was holding in his bed. He couldn't believe what they'd been through, but he was so thankful they had both made it through. He thought about their activities from the night prior, and a smile came to his face.
He had been her first.
Tears threatened his eyes when he had the thought. Ron was even more thankful that he hadn't gone further with the flirtatious witch he dated at Hogwarts, allowing Hermione to be his first as well.
When Ron discovered what exactly Hermione wanted to do, he was surprised; thrilled, but wondering if she was truly ready. When she assured him, he brought back all of the things his older brothers had taught him. Charlie and the twins made sure he would be well prepared as a first time lover, much to Ron's embarrassment. Perhaps listening to Charlie's bragging all these years had paid off in the end.
Ron made sure to be gentle and listen to her responses. He made sure the brunette was well pleased before moving on. Which was the most magnificent thing he had ever witnessed in his life, thus far. As she came down from her euphoric high, he moved his wand in the intricate motion above Hermione's bare abdomen and muttering the incantation as he was instructed by his brothers. Ron waited for her approval before taking the final step. Entering slowly, and whispering his love, while kissing away the tears that fell from her closed eyes. It was so intimate, so touching, they didn't just shag. They had made love. Ron shook his head when he thought of what a sap he was. But, the truth was, that he would do anything for the woman in his arms.
…
As much as it hurt Ron, he knew he needed to get ready for the portkey. He held her for a moment longer, inhaling the scent of her uncontrollable curls, and giving a lingering kiss to the witch's neck and shoulder. He sighed as he carefully slipped his arm from the resting girl's head, allowing it to gently rest on the pillow. He removed his other arm, accidentally brushing her breast in the process, causing Ron to groan and remember how he had lavished them the night before. He pulled the cover over her form, keeping her comfortable, and modest as he left the room.
When he returned, the sight that greeted him didn't help his willpower to leave. Thank Merlin he'd taken care of his early morning arousal in the loo. He shut the door quietly, and walked to his knapsack.
"You're bloody lucky it was me who came in and not mum." He gestured to her naked chest. Hermione looked down, realizing that her sheet had dropped, leaving everything to be seen by Ron. She quickly snatched the covers and brought them to her chest, while a flush painted her skin. He thought it was adorable how she could be so innocent, beautiful, and sexy, at the same time. Ron returned his toothbrush and closed the flap to his sack.
"Hey, I never said I minded!" He whispered jokingly as he paced over to the bed. He knew it was time to say goodbye to the witch he loved more than anyone else. The witch who finally knew that she was loved by him, and whom he demonstrated that love to in the wee hours that morning.
It wasn't an enjoyable goodbye, or an easy one at that. They both knew that the separation would be difficult; even harder now that they had expressed their feelings to each other. The witch sobbed in his embrace and he held her tightly, trying his best to make her feel safe and secure, and knowing she would be in good hands when he left. He kissed her hair and whispered his love and comforting words. He wiped the tears from her face as she had done for him so many times, and gave her a final passionate kiss. He didn't know how to express how much he cared and adored this witch, but he sure tried to put it all into that kiss. Tears threatened to fall from his own eyes, as he broke the kiss and gathered his knapsack, throwing it on his shoulder.
He knew if he didn't go now, he wouldn't be able to leave at all. He headed for the door and turned back, giving him a view he would look back on for the next few months. She was still crying; eyes red, and skin blotchy. She was holding the sheet tightly against her chest, with a trembling hand. She bit her lip, so more sobs would stay stifled inside her. It killed him to see her this way. But, he knew these few months of separation would mean he could make the world a safer place for her, and the future he wanted with her; that meant the everything to him.
"Goodbye Hermione." He whispered, his voice dry and cracked from holding in his emotions. She quivered at his words and sniffled before responding.
"Bye Ron." Tears still falling from her face. Turning again, he left through the door, shutting it with a small click.