J.K. Rowling is a genius. Nothing here is mine. No infringement is intended.
A final thanks to my wonderful beta Natalie for helping me clean this thing up.
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Scenes From Shell Cottage ~ Chapter Seven
It took them nearly thirty minutes to make it back to her bedroom door, where they now stood together alternately kissing and whispering in the dark hallway. They were farther from the window now, and could barely see one another despite the fact that their faces were nearly touching.
“Why is this so difficult?” she whispered, raking her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “We’re going to see each other in the morning, after all.”
“Yes, but you’ll be impersonating an evil wench in the morning, won’t you?”
She laughed softly as he kissed her twice along her hairline near her temple. “You don’t think it will be the same?” she asked.
“I do not.”
“Plus,” she added. “Harry.”
“Harry,” he said, kissing her just below the line of her jaw. She made a soft sound that was half-sigh and half-giggle, tilting her head to encourage him.
“And that is my new favorite sound in the world,” he said.
She could feel his smile against her cheek. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“I mean you.”
“You’ve heard me laugh a thousand times.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Not like that, I haven’t.”
She felt herself blushing and was grateful for the cover of darkness.
A few minutes passed.
“Ron?”
“Yeah?” he answered, meeting her eyes.
“I don’t want this to be a secret. Do you?”
“Are you kidding? Let’s wake up the whole house,” he suggested with a grin.
She smiled. “I just mean Harry, really… he’s the only person we’re going to see. I don’t want him to be in the dark or feel awkward about things.”
“I know. Me, too.”
“So you’ll tell him?”
“I’ll tell him.”
“Before I see you both in the morning?”
“Sure,” he said, playing with the curls at her shoulder.
“How do you think he’ll react?”
Ron did not hesitate. “He’ll be really happy for us.”
“I suppose he’ll be shocked.”
“I don’t think so. He sort of knows about me.”
“Oh, of course you told him. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Actually I didn’t,” Ron said uneasily.
She searched his eyes, asking.
“The locket… it didn’t just scream when I tried to destroy it. Harry was trying to spare my, uh, dignity when he told you what happened.”
Her hands were on either side of his neck, her face full of concern.
He sighed. “It had a go at me. It’s funny how it”he”knew just how to get to me. It tried to convince me that you, uh, that you and Harry...”
She closed her eyes. “Oh, Ron.”
“Harry was right there. He saw and heard everything.” He looked a little sheepish, even embarrassed. “So… he knows.”
“I’m sorry.” Her expression went from concern to horror in a matter of seconds. She put both of her hands over her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I was so awful to you when you came back, and that was right after… oh, I must have made it a thousand times worse.”
He pulled her hands away from her face and held them against his chest. “You didn't know. And you were in a fairly justified rage at the time.” He grinned at her. “It was a good thing Harry had your wand, though… who knows what you would have done to me.”
“Well,” she said. “I’m still sorry.”
He released her hands and she wrapped them around his middle, hugging him.
“Are you still nervous about tomorrow?” he asked into her hair.
She nodded against his chest.
“I’m not anymore,” he told her, pulling back to see her face. “It feels amazing right now, like nothing else bad could happen.”
Her face clouded over. “But Ron, you know that…”
“I know. It’s just how I feel. Invincible or something.”
She smiled sadly. “And I feel like we have more to lose than ever.”
“We have a good plan. Everything is going to be all right.”
She smiled, trying for optimism.
He sighed. “I hate this, but we really need to get some sleep if we are going to pull this thing off in a few hours.”
“I know,” she said.
He looked at her for a long time. “So, uh… now I’m going to kiss you goodnight.”
She laughed softly. “Haven’t you been doing that for the last forty-five minutes?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, brushing his lips against hers. “But this is the official goodnight kiss.”
She made a face of mock seriousness. “I see. Officially… official.”
“Yeah,” he managed before their lips met again”this time with the urgency and intensity of an impending separation. Because, even though they would meet in a few hours, they both knew it would likely be a long time before they could talk this way again, or hold one another at all. He finally pulled back and let his forehead rest against hers.
“If all of this turns out to be a dream, please cut me some slack tomorrow because I am going to be in a bloody bad mood.”
She chuckled and tipped her head back to look at him, placing a hand on the side of his face. “It's not a dream,” she whispered soberly.
“You and me, then?” he asked.
“You and me,” she confirmed. Then as an afterthought, she added, “Well, and Harry.”
He laughed. “And Harry,” he agreed. He gave her one last kiss and then started to back away.
“Wait,” she said, holding onto his sweater. When he stopped, she reached her arms up around his neck to hug him fiercely, her face planted into his shoulder. He held her tightly in response.
“Are you okay?”
She pulled back and beamed at him, nodding her answer. “Ron, whatever happens to us tomorrow, I want you to know I’ve never been happier than I am right now. I’ve never even been close.”
“Hermione, everything is going to be fine tomorrow… you’ll see.”
A few minutes later, she lay in bed watching the shadows move across the ceiling as moonlight filtered in through the window. She could not stop smiling. She whispered Luna’s name into the darkness two separate times, hoping in vain that her friend might stir and wake, just long enough to hear a small bit of news Hermione was bursting to share. I’m in love, Luna. I’m in love with my best friend, and believe it or not, he seems to love me back.
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Ron tossed and turned in his sleep. Changing scenes wove in and out of his dreams… Hermione whispering to him with her hands in his hair, Griphook in a rage brandishing the Sword of Gryffindor, some vague but serious danger at The Burrow, Hermione screaming as she had at the Malfoy’s, and Harry struggling in a duel with You-Know-Who while he”Ron”was bound and could not help. It was not a restful sleep, and he was relieved when Harry nudged his shoulder to say it was time. They got dressed and tidied up their portion of the living area as much as possible without waking Dean. Then together they slipped out the door and made their way to the spot where they had agreed to meet the others.
Ron could not seem to turn his thoughts from Hermione. He felt almost guilty for his good mood, as Harry seemed more pensive than usual. They had barely said two words to each other since they’d got up, but Ron knew he had precious little time if he was going to keep his promise to Hermione and tell Harry what was going on.
“I spoke to Hermione last night,” he said into the stillness as they waited in the garden.
Harry was fingering the small pouch around his neck, the one Hagrid had given him for his birthday. “I know,” he said, distracted. “I was there.”
“No, after that.”
“We went to bed after that.”
“No. You went to bed. I pretended to go to bed so I could sneak back upstairs after you and Dean went to sleep. I wanted to talk to her alone.” Ron emphasized the last word, and it seemed to do the trick. He now had Harry’s full attention.
“Blimey,” Harry said in a low voice. “What did you do?”
Ron laughed at his friend’s nervous expression. “I told her.”
“About what happened with the Horcrux?”
“Well, no. I mean, yeah, sort of… not the details.” Ron shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at the ground.
“But you told her… how you feel about her?”
Ron grinned, and his expression said yes.
“Wow.”
Hermione had been right. Harry looked rather shocked… perhaps not that his friends had finally sorted themselves out, but that Ron had marched right up the stairs and told her the truth after all this time.
Harry was staring, the impending Gringotts adventure momentarily forgotten in Ron’s unfolding drama. “Well, out with it then. What did she say?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“I will. This part will not surprise me, I assure you.”
A sheepish grin burst out on Ron’s face. “She said she’s fancied me since we were thirteen.”
Harry laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Not bad, Hermione,” he said, impressed.
“I know. Good line, right? There I was, going on and on, telling her every little thing I’ve ever thought or felt about her. I’ve never talked so much in my life, Harry... honestly. And she really didn’t say that much now that I think about it.”
”Hermione didn’t have much to say?” Harry said. “You’re certain it was our Hermione?”
“Quite. I don’t know that she could have said much if she’d wanted to. I couldn’t seem to shut up long enough for her to try.” A dreamy kind of look came over him. “But when she did say something…”
Harry suddenly looked as if he smelled something unpleasant. “Let me stop you right there.”
Ron’s expression was indignant. “I wasn’t going to tell you,” he snapped.
“Good,” said Harry, relieved.
“Though I will tell you one thing,” Ron said, standing up to his full height and sticking his chest out a bit.
“Do I want to hear this?”
“You were right. Turns out she never fancied you at all, mate.”
“That so?” Harry said, a bit put out. “Well. Brilliant.”
“She’s fancied me all this time, can you believe it?”
“At the moment? Not really.” Ron chuckled and Harry shook his head, giving in to a smile. “I’m glad you didn’t try to keep it from me.”
Ron glanced at him. “We both wanted to tell you. And don’t worry, we won’t let things get weird or anything.”
“Right. It won’t be weird knowing you two are snogging somewhere every time I go to the loo or keep watch outside the tent.”
Ron’s eyes grew wide along with his grin. “Good thinking, mate!” he said, slapping Harry on the back.
Their laughter died out and silence fell again between them as they heard the door to Shell Cottage clicking shut in the distance. They watched as Hermione and Griphook strode across the lawn toward them in the pre-dawn darkness. The sight of Hermione as Bellatrix Lestrange was enough to jerk them both back to the sober reality of what was going to happen next.
Harry’s voice was lower as he spoke to Ron once more. “Seriously, I think it’s brilliant. After everything we’ve been through… well, I reckon you both deserve all the happiness you can find.”
Ron didn’t say anything. The words may have been exactly what he had expected, but they still meant a great deal. They continued to watch as Hermione and Griphook grew closer. “I know it’s her,” Ron said quietly. “But it’s still creepy.”
Harry turned to his friend as if he’d just had an idea. “Ten galleons if you snog her while she looks like that.”
Ron chuckled and pulled a face. “You’re mental, mate. Not for a hundred.”
Then they were all together and Hermione was complaining about Bellatrix tasting worse than Gurdyroots. While they discussed just how to alter his appearance, Ron struggled to find even a trace of Hermione in the features of the Death Eater who stood before him. But then she rolled her eyes at his request for a smaller nose and began to swish her wand in such a proper Hermione fashion that he had to smile. She was definitely in there.
As they walked together to the point where they would be able to Apparate, Ron could not resist a long look back at his brother’s house”beautifully bathed in moonlight. Shell Cottage had become a safe haven for him. When he had lost himself with the Horcrux and abandoned his friends, he had been desperate and without hope. Yet here he had found refuge. And again, when it seemed the world itself could crack in two… when Hermione might have slipped away completely, here they had found healing. And though his friendship with Hermione had really grown up at Hogwarts and The Burrow and even in the little tent… ultimately, it was here they had found each other.
Yes. This really is the most amazing place I have ever known.
“Ron?” she prodded.
He turned and met the eyes that did not belong to her. Griphook was clinging onto Harry’s shoulders and Hermione’s hand rested on Harry’s arm, waiting. He glanced one more time at the cottage, then covered her hand with his. And with a hard jerk, they were pulled away once more… to Diagon Alley.
END
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Notes: I want to freely acknowledge that there is no room in the text of Deathly Hallows for this conversation between Ron and Harry. In canon, there is silent contemplation for Harry, and then Hermione and Griphook arrive. So I took a bit of liberty there and added about fifteen minutes to their wait so this conversation could happen. Hope it doesn’t offend anyone too much. If so, I’m sorry, but you’ll probably be all right. ;) I just knew I didn’t want to push the relationship at all if there wasn’t a way to keep Harry in the know.
I would love to know what you thought of this, if you have a minute. Thanks for reading!