Hermione stood, resting her forehead against the cool leather of the ancient school books. She banged her head repeatedly, and the dust that fell from the topmost shelf made her eyes water.
Her thoughts were on Ron, and her eyes were no longer watering. Tears were rolling down her cheeks; at first an over brim, then they tumbled one after the other, silently coursing their way down her pale cheeks and getting caught in her hair.
Why had it only been a dream? For once in her life, she’d grasped something, been able to keep it with in reasonable reach. As soon as she felt truly happy, it turned out her damned mind had been messing with her.
She sat down at the desk again. The pines outside hummed with monotonous dysphoria. Besides the normal healthy chatter of the working students that usually filled the rows of bookshelves, everything was calm and mysteriously quiet. Nothing moved, and Hermione felt like the world had stopped.
Her world certainly had. She allowed herself to dream, and set the standard too high. She set herself up for disappointment, and received her reward regularly.
She sighed. Days melded into one another, weeks into months. It seems eons since she had dreamed about Ron, since she’d had the encounter. It seemed years since she’s spoken a word to anyone. She walked numbly around Gryffindor Tower like a ghost. No one paid her attention, and she stared senselessly back at them with big, haunted eyes.
She did, however sneak a small savory glance at Ron every so often. Whenever she did, his head was bowed in deliberate concentration at the four feet of parchment in front of him, covered in long, loopy disjointed writing. A letter to Harry, she proposed. Harry hadn’t written in months. She knew he was alright; something as loud and well-celebrated about as Harry Potter dying or defeating the Dark Lord would not be a secret from anyone in the Wizarding community. Hermione doubted even the Muggles would not notice a change in atmosphere.
There was a susurrus, and Hermione lifted her head off the cool desk. The overhead sunshine that had been floating in earlier had been replaced with stumpy candles in their holders, and a lantern made its way toward Hermione with briskness and finality.
She didn’t care if she’d gotten caught. She’d surrendered her Head Girl badge to Susan; after all, who wanted a depressive self indulged Muggle-born for a head Girl is such times of trouble?
A freckled and concerned face appeared in the light of the lantern. Hermione’s eyebrows rose in confusion, fright and then lowered again in hazy recognition.
“Ron,” she said hoarsely. The monosyllabic word felt like aloe against the sand paper of her throat. She hadn’t used her voice in weeks, and she liked the sound of it.
“Ron,” she said again. “Ron, why are you here?”
Ron silently ambulated forward, watching her the whole time. His blue eyes were slightly dimmed in the lamplight, but Hermione’s shone.
“I- I felt guilty, Hermione,” he whispered. His eyes never dropped from her face, orange in the glow.
Hermione’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Guilty? Ron, why?”
“I didn’t come back. I was a coward. I ran from you when you needed me.”
Hermione was shocked. She didn’t know what to say. She just sat there, staring into his eyes. She had never noticed how deep and complicated his eyes were; they told a new found knowledge, a new yearning.
“I did need you Ron, but I pushed you away.”
Ron nodded. “I know, but I should have held on fast.”
He took a short step and enveloped Hermione in a hug. She felt her weary muscles relax into his, felt the comfort and safety of his arms. She leant into him, and smelled his scent. This wasn’t a dream, it was happening, and Hermione could feel. She could feel his fabric of his shirt; she could feel the thump-thump of her heart, and she could feel the stillness in the air around them.
“Forgive me, Ron. This is just a dream but I need to be sure…”
Hermione licked her lips quickly and made to raise hers to his, but he reached down and caught her jaw in his hands, and her lips on his own.
To her immense surprise, she melted into him, enjoying his taste, his feel, his presence around her, guiding her, strengthening her…
Her lips tingled. She pressed closer to him, and, if it was possible, they became more tightly bound. It was as if they were two souls residing in the same body, one the same, emotion for emotion.
The kiss deepened, and Hermione could feel every slight twitch as he ran his fingertips lightly up and down her shoulder, tugging at her hair, and massaging her jaw. She could feel his lips against her own, could feel them bruising with the force at which they were joined.
Her senses sharpened as her eyes flew open. Her world exploded, and every doubt, every indurate mental trial melted away into nothing. A supernova erupted in her brain, and after what seemed an eternity, they broke apart. She clung to him, to his feel, to his thoughts, until they broke apart and became two people again.
He regarded her seriously; just looking on for a sign.
First, it was her eyes, they warmed. Then her cheeks, then she let out a soft laugh and grinned. A wall fell, a division crumbled, and Hermione smiled.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek.
Ron nodded, enclosing her petite hand in his own. “You know I’m here.”
Hermione nodded, and indicated to freedom. She motioned to a place outside the books, into the real world where they could be together.
Months passed and Hermione regained her normal position enough to snap at Ron wearily as he attempted to copy her essays. He simply smiled sheepishly, but his eyes twinkled with knowing.
It was in the Hogwarts grounds on day, near the Great Lake they received a letter address to them.
Ron and Hermione,
I am well. It is not wise to converse in such times, but rest assured you will see me soon. Where, I do not know. I suppose fate will bring us together in our travels.
Ron, a better mate no one could have. You’ve been there from the start, and you’ve helped me to where I am today.
Hermione’s hand shook as she leant against Ron. She could feel his body quivering with tension. Her hands shook as she read from the paper.
Hermione, you told me long ago I shouldn’t be able to fly. According to your laws of gravity, my quest was void. You told me so many things were betting against me, and I replied that at least one should be able to beat the odd and prosper. I remember before my last match, you were there, whispering my ear about a bumblebee. Naturally, I had absolutely no idea what you were on about at the time, but now I understand. You take flight like a bumblebee, Hermione. You fight against the odds. You accomplish your dreams, and Ron and I will always be behind you.
It was signed off simply ‘Harry,’ but Hermione gripped the letter close to her chest, and buried her face in Ron’s shoulder. She wept for her friend, and felt Ron’s hands easing her gently. She knew he was thinking the same along the same lines as she was, and she found comfort in the knowledge her friend was safe and whole.
“Ron?” she murmured.
“Yes, Hermione?” Ron opened his eyes and gazed at the lake.
“Do you think he’s really safe? He’s protected from him, I mean?”
Ron sighed, stroking her hair. He focused his eyes on her nose, which could be seen just out from under her hair. “We’ll never know Hermione.”
“Well, of course we will,” she said, sitting up and touching his face. He looked at her quizzically.
“We’ll be there with him soon enough. We’ll fight with him. He’ll be safe with us,” Hermione said with finality.
Harry couldn't beat Lord Voldemort alone, but now that all three friends were joined mentally, he stood a chance. He could tap into Ron and Hermione's powers in order to strengthen his own magic. They would take on the Dark Lord together as three when the opportunity arose. Together they would rise up against the Dark Lord, and watch him perish beneath their hands.
They would rise up against him in mind, body, and soul.
A/N: This story I now complete. Reviews are very, very nice, but the fact you read my story is very comforting as well. Thank you for sticking around.
Hermione was described as OOC- For confirmation for why she did, you might like to re-read the first chapter, or simply consider- stress can drive you to do many things. :)
Any more faults you find in my story, I would be VERY glad to hear of. This is my very first Hr/R fic, and also my very first D/A.
A note to new writers: When writing, make sure that you read over it again. Spell check isn’t the best, and the best thing you could possibly do is to get yourself a beta. I know from experience! I unfortunately found out the hard way when my spell check changed itself to French, and couldn’t identify anything. ^-^
Thank you for sticking by!
-Steph.