Ron Weasley was confused. This was a regular occurrence, especially when a certain witch named Hermione Granger was involved. She was asleep though, so he could hardly blame his muddled mind on her. The fact that she was asleep in the same bed as him, her head resting on his shoulder, was another story.
Still, he didn't think the root problem was Hermione herself. It was something she had said fifth year, something that was completely, totally and utterly wrong. That was probably a first for her.
"Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have."
No, that wasn't true at all, he thought. Surely he couldn't feel like this if he was so limited.
His mind couldn't decided how he felt: euphoric because Hermione was beside him and would let him snog her whenever he wished; relieved because Harry had finally defeated Voldemort; exhausted from fighting; anguished because Fred...
No, he couldn't think like this. He furiously rubbed his face, willing the tears to go away. Fred wouldn't want him to cry. Or would he? He would never really know, would he?
The thought he kept dreading popped up once more: Why Fred? Why couldn't it have been Percy? He betrayed them, left their family, made Mum cry...
Ron shut his eyes tight. Percy was his brother. He was a pompous git, but he had come back. Family was family, and above all, they were important. Ron felt shame course through his body. How he could want to trade one brother for another? How could he fault Percy for leaving when he, Ron, had done the same to his best friends?
As Ron's mind spun wildly out of control, he was startled to feel the weight beside him shift. He was paralyzed, aware that if Hermione woke up she would see the tears he could not control, the fear in his eyes. But she merely drew closer to him, balling his shirt in her fist. He liked to think that the soft sigh she had uttered had been his name.
A wave of unadultered giddiness washed over him. She had kissed him! And he had kissed her back! It was the happiest day of his life, he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend, he....
But guilt began to take its toll, and Ron wondered if there were Dementors in the boy's dormitory, so suddenly had his happiness fled.
How can you be happy when Fred is dead? And not just Fred either! Tonks, Lupin, Creevey... so many bodies lying below...
Ron wished there was a way to turn off his brain. He wanted to sleep, he needed to sleep. His ears rang with the cheers and screams of the battlefield, his muscles ached from dodging spells, his throat burned with tears he could not stop from falling.
"Ron?"
Shit, he thought, shutting his eyes for the first time all evening. But he knew it was too late; he had not imagined her voice, and he could not feign sleep. She was sitting up, he could feel her eyes on her face. Any moment now she would say something about the tears which leaked out of the corners of his eyes.
Instead, she squeezed his hand so tenderly, he wondered if he was imagining things. But then she spoke again, and it was all he could do not to wince.
"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry."
His heart felt like it was about to explode. He couldn't talk about Fred, not now, and not with her. He never wanted her to see him like this, so out of control.
"I'm so sorry."
Just say it already! Get it over with!
"I can't believe you've been awake this whole time while I've been asleep. Here, it's my turn to stand guard."
His eyes snapped open. What was she on about?
Her hair was bushier than ever, and even though she had just slept, she looked like she'd been awake for a week. Her eyes couldn't focus on his face for more than a few seconds. The realization hit him and he almost laughed despite himself. She thinks we're still out in the woods, hunting Horcruxes!
He tried to smile at her, but she didn't seem to notice. "It's fine," he whispered to her, his voice thick with tears. "Go back to sleep."
For once, she didn't put up a fight. She all but collapsed on top of him; the effort of propping herself up was her last strength. He knew that there would be many nights when he would wake up thinking the same thing. Fighting Voldemort had consumed every part of life. It had stopped him from telling Hermione how he felt, kept him away from his family, haunted his dreams and fed off his fears. Now it was all over. Admiring Hermione's sleeping face, he realized it wasn't so strange for her to still think they were looking for the Horcruxes.
The night didn't feel real any more; everything seemed hazy and distant now. His befuddled mind seemed to lose its grasp on all the thoughts lurking on the horizon.
He closed his eyes again, waiting, hoping, for sleep to come.
He guessed he had fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, golden light danced on the wall above him. Hermione was gone, and he couldn't help a sudden pang of disappointment. It took him a moment to remember what had happened before everything came rushing back: Voldemort's defeat, Hermione's kiss, the deaths, the joy, the tears. He felt dizzy from the sudden action in his brain. He hadn't thought this much since the night after he left Harry and Hermione. It was a similar feeling but everything felt so much more extreme now. Distracted, he didn't notice the creaking of the door until his curtain was drawn aside to reveal Hermione carrying a heavily laden tray.
"I thought you might be hungry," she said quietly, looking embarrassed. He realized he was staring with his mouth hanging open. He scrambled to sit up and make room for her. She sat stiffly, still holding the tray. She didn't relax until he leaned over, took the tray, and kissed her in thanks. He tried to eat with more decorum than usual, and swallowed before answering her.
"I didn't wake you when I left, did I?"
"Not at all. What time is it?"
"Just past noon. I figured you'd be hungry so I went down to the kitchens... I felt terrible about asking the house elves for food when they're so busy, but they wouldn't let me cook and you know I'm rubbish at it anyway." He smiled, knowing she rambled when she was nervous. Was he making her nervous? He wasn't sure if this was good or bad.
"Kreacher was more than happy to help. I think he's made immense progress in overcoming his prejudices, don't you? If only wizards could do the same for house elves! But I saw Ginny there too. She was getting food for Harry because he's been going around nonstop all morning. Everyone wants to talk to him it seems!"
Hermione looked uncomfortable saying this, and Ron knew it was because she was worried he would get jealous. There were certainly things that seemed wonderful about Harry's life: loads of money, fame, Quidditch skills, best in Defense Against the Dark Arts. But Ron wasn't jealous of Harry anymore. He knew he had plenty of things Harry envied too, especially his family. Ron knew he'd rather have his family than fame or money, although a bit of both might be nice. He looked up when Hermione gave a nervous cough, and he smiled at her, his mouth full of shepherd's pie.
"Poor bloke must need a break," he said.
"Yes, I quite agree. But people want to see him, or at least they want to see people who know him well. Maybe when you're done eating... if you don't want to that's fine but— but I think it would be good for us to go down, give him a break... People want to see you, too."
People want to see me? This didn't give him as big a thrill as it had after Sirius broke into the Gryffindor Tower, or when he won the Quidditch Cup, but he couldn't deny he was pleased. Perhaps he'd get some fame of his own. Just not so much that Rita Skeeter wanted to write nasty articles about him. Ron knew he couldn't handle that as well as Harry or Hermione could.
"I..." Hermione began, making Ron jump. She seemed at a total loss for words. "Ron, please, I have no idea how you feel right now and I don' want to say anything to upset you because you've been so nice to me. I know you hate it when I cry, but you let me stay last night and I just wondered..."
But what she was wondering was silenced with a kiss that she seemed so relieved to receive it was quite a while before either of them said anything else.
"You were wrong," he said, breaking the kiss.
"What?" Hermione's eyes were unfocused again, but not because she was sleepy.
"You said I had the emotional range of teaspoon."
"Oh, Ron, that was such a long time ago..."
"I don't."
"I know, Ron."
"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now, and I don't think I can say it, but it's been driving me crazy. I don't know what I think. I guess I don't know a lot of things."
She didn't say anything but looked up at him with her brown eyes and before he could stop himself it burst forth:
"I love you."
"What?!" He hadn't meant to say it, but he knew as soon as he said it, that it had to be how he felt. About this he wasn't confused. He didn't know how to deal with the guilt, the shame, the fear, the relief — but with Hermione looking at him like that, he knew that he loved her even with all the madness surrounding them.
"I love you." It was such a relief to say it! In any other case he would be terrified that she knew, that she hadn't said it back, but Ron was beyond his insecurities right now. She had seen him cry, made him laugh, driven him mad. What was there to gain by hiding the one thing he felt so sure of right now?
She threw herself at him and the tray clattered to the floor. He'd never felt like this kissing Lavender. His mind was finally clear of all thoughts but one: I love her, I love, I love her...
"I love you too, Ron," she said, her eyes gleaming.
With a last kiss, he led her by the hand out of the room. Hermione grinning beside him, Ron stood tall, knowing there would be pain and misery ahead.
Though he was as afraid and confused as ever, he couldn't help feeling his heart fill. There were many days ahead to rebuild and rethink everything, and he had plenty of teaspoons of emotion to deal with it all.
Teaspoon by FinallyWork
Chapter Notes: I love Ron Weasley. You should too.
Also, I am not JKR. Deal with it.