The Great Hall was filled with people who were enthusiastically shovelling down food and throwing back pumpkin juice, recuperating from the recent battle. They found the rest of the Weasley clan and sat with them and the aloof Luna Lovegood. She was currently informing an bewildered Mr. Weasley on the magical properties of the Blibbering Humdingers.
“Oh yes, they have a magical tune to their speech which causes all those who hear it to become confused and to agree with everything they hear. I wouldn't be surprised if Fudge didn't use them while in office to get others to do his bidding because, of course, they don't affect vampires.”
Mr. Weasley's expression gave the impression that he, himself, was currently listening to a Blibbering Humdinger. He glanced down the table and caught Hermione's eye, searching for an explanation. She rolled her eyes and shrugged as a brief smile crossed his features.
They all gratefully ate the food the House-Elves had hurriedly made for them after their own battle. Hermione was conflicted about eating the product of such servitude, but resigned to promising twenty socks for the elves by nightfall, each with Quidditch themes in Dobby's honour.
With full bellies, everyone’s mood seemed to drastically improve. Even Mrs. Weasley managed a smile when Ron, in a rare attempt at chivalry, tried to push back the bench for Hermione, but in his hurry, instead toppled over backwards onto an unsuspecting first-year. Hermione managed to hold in a laugh and thanked him graciously as he leapt up. She got to her feet as Ron, red-faced, told his family he was going for a walk. His father nodded with a knowing look and he led Hermione out of the Great Hall.
She wondered vaguely where they were heading, unconsciously obeying the pressure of his hand as they climbed the marble staircase. It was only when he released her own that she took notice of where they were.
“But… will it still work?”
“Only one way to find out, I s’pose.”
He paced in front of the wall until a door appeared. She walked to him and they tentatively opened the door together. She gasped when she saw the room. Not only did it work, but it was the most beautiful ice palace she had ever seen. For some reason, it seemed oddly familiar. She looked at Ron in shock for an explanation. He pulled her into the room and took a deep breath.
“The Yule Ball… I should have been the one to take you. I never asked you to dance because I was too busy being a git to you and Vicky. So,” he smiled, “it may be a bit late, but may I have this dance, Madame?”
He offered her his arm and escorted her to the middle of the floor. He flicked his wand at nothing in particular, but the music from the first dance of the ball began to play, swelling and consuming the hall with the graceful tones of a hundred violins. She placed her right hand in his and her left delicately on his shoulder. Hermione looked up to see a bit of a smirk on his face, but a tender look in his eyes. They began to dance and twirl across the floor as if they had been meant to dance together their whole lives. They glided all around the room in mounting exhilaration until a particularly enthusiastic spin caused her foot to slip and they fell over in a laughing heap.
“Well, I suppose that’s what I get for being in my best dress for you and you looking so dashing in your dress robes,” she sighed in fake distress. They looked each other over: both had on torn and singed robes and were covered in cuts and soot. This sent them into a renewed fit of laughter. While smiling and enjoying herself, the memory of the battle distantly echoed in her head. It seemed almost indecent to be so happy. Hermione brushed these thoughts away and reveled in the glorious present.
When the two finally managed to stop laughing, he rolled over to face her with a roguish grin. “I don’t care what you are wearing. You are always beautiful to me.”
She playfully punched him in the arm for being stupidly sappy and rolled her eyes.
“Alright, alright! You know you find me too dashing to resist. Just look at these bulging muscles and rippling pectorals.” He winked as she surveyed his tall and thin figure, eyebrow raised.
“You have a vast imagination and a big head, Won-Won,” she teased. “It’s a good thing you can dance; you really are quite talented.”
“Always the tone of surprise. Hey, where are you going?” Hermione had just risen and walked to one of the windows.
She stared intently over the ruined grounds for a moment. She could have sworn she had seen some scarlet bird streak past the window. Then, a cool breeze came through the window and accentuated the fact that they were in a room of ice. She shivered a bit and turned back to face him.
“Blimey, sorry about that! I forgot, you must be freezing in here!” He took off the Weasley jumper he had been donning under his robes and put it on her, pulling her closer for his added warmth. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. For a moment, the world was quiet and nothing existed but the two of them in a beautiful, ice crystal wonderland.
He gently lifted her chin and smiled with warmth as strong as his jumper. She smiled back in the same fashion as his eyes turned to a blazing so like his sister’s. She melted into him, with no inhibitions this time, as he pushed her against the iced wall and tangled his right hand into the back of her bushy mane of hair and firmly held her lower back. Her hands slowly climbed his chest and dangled behind his neck. It was pure bliss as she kissed him back with all she had felt for years, but never dared express. He gently removed the heavy sweater, but it was no longer necessary; she was quite warm. She threw off his robe as he nibbled her ear and kissed her long neck. She was unaware she was down to her t-shirt and jeans, her own robes discarded, because nothing seemed to matter but Ron. His smell was intoxicating and all she wanted was to stay here, with him, forever.
It was with an air of reluctance that Ron pulled away from her. She noticed his shirt was missing, but she didn’t remember removing it. She wondered how they must look, and then caught her own reflection in the icy floor. Hermione blushed deeply as she saw her disheveled hair and already flushed complexion. Ron laughed at her reaction and stroked some of her hair down a bit awkwardly.
“Do you think they might have missed us?” Ron inquired, bemused.
Hermione grabbed up her robes and threw them back over her Muggle clothes while Ron grabbed his shirt, sweater, and robes. She didn’t know what to think. She was happier than she had ever been, but confused that she didn’t quite have control over herself. Ron, seeing her internal confusion, grabbed her into another bear hug. Hermione might never have left the safety of his arms.
“We will have forever, Hermione,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I didn’t smarten up to you sooner. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit this earlier. Hermione “" She looked into his brilliant blue eyes. “I love you. I love you more than you could ever know. I think I have loved you ever since you lied about the troll in first year.” He laughed at the memory. She was speechless from this sudden pronouncement, but Ron didn’t expect anything from her. He let her rest her head on his chest once more and nuzzled his chin on the crown of her head. “You don’t have to feel the same way; I just thought I would tell you. I know you probably don’t trust me after I left you and Harry. I mean, I wouldn’t and I’m… you know… really ““ but Hermione cut him off with a harsh look.
“Ronald Bilius Weasley, how could you, for even a second, imagine I didn’t feel the same?” She looked rather scolding as she surveyed him. She had been so guarded with her feelings for so long, but as she looked at the battle-scarred boy with flaming red hair, the internal walls melted away. In a rather exasperated voice, she said, “I love you, as you know full well. Wasn’t it a bit obvious? Did you think I was merely annoyed by ‘Lav-Lav’ because she detracted from our time together as friends?”
He smiled sheepishly, and looked to her for forgiveness. She couldn’t help but notice that as sincere as his eyes were, a wall seemed to have closed him off from her. She half sighed as she lifted to releve and kissed him softly, hoping it was her imagination. Hermione smiled as she lowered herself. Ron grabbed her hand and led her to the door as she took a last, longing look around the crystal ballroom.
“We can come back anytime. This secret hideout is always waiting. Who knows, maybe next time it will sprout a magnificent library in the corner for you to snog instead.”
Hermione shot him a nasty look that only increased his mirth. She yearned to stay hidden away here forever, but followed him through the door returning them to an even more frigid reality.
From the Ground, Up. by Hermiones Kneazle
Chapter Notes: Thanks to my wondderful Betas Mary-ann3112 and Harry_Potter4life :) you are great!
Chapter Endnotes: Any and all comments are welcome :)
A/N: Releve is when a dancer lifts to the balls of his/her feet for balance and height.