****
“Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
-Mark Twain
Once again the scene disappeared and they were thrust into the present, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth.
Ron shuddered involuntarily, his indigo irises haunted and glazed. “We couldn’t get out…” he trailed off in a strangled whisper, looking at her pleadingly.
Without speaking, she reached towards him, and he allowed her to hold him. For a moment his tears mingled with hers.
“I begged them” he bleated feebly, continuing to shake uncontrollably, “I wanted them to take me instead.”
“I know you did, I know-” Her voice broke.
She cleared her throat. “It was you that night when I woke up… I thought I had remembered singing, but I assumed I was dreaming…Ron I’m so sorry.”
“What in the name of Merlin’s saggy Y-fronts do you have to be sorry for?” He stared at her incredulously.
“It was her fault, Hermione, that monster’s fault-”
“Don’t say that-”
“Surely you don’t deny that, do you? You know better than anyone what she’s capable of…”
“Yes, yes I do. But-”
“But what?”
Hermione rose, staring at the glowing embers.
“That night, when you were trying to...err…comfort me, that wasn’t the only time I ever had nightmares about her. In fact, every damn night she was there, taunting me like my own personal demon, bent on my suffering.”
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with moisture.
“I hated her, Ron. I loathed everything about her. Actually-”
Her skin flushed with embarrassment.
“When we got to Hogwarts to look for the Horcruxes, I hoped I would find her; I hoped I could inflict a tiny piece of the agony that she forced me to endure. I wanted her to understand the hell that I went through.”
“Then something strange happened; when your mum finally finished her off, I felt no triumph, no satisfaction. Actually, those feelings of anger and resentment towards her died when she did.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I was glad she was gone so she couldn’t inflict any more pain; cause any more suffering. When I saw her lying there in the Great Hall, I saw firsthand how hatred and fury can twist a person, how it can kill them slowly from the inside out.”
“I didn’t want to turn out like her, Ron, I really didn’t. You have no idea how much I felt like you did when Fred died. You wanted to kill Death Eaters, to avenge his memory.”
She didn’t quite meet his gaze. “You had a better reason for causing someone else pain. I didn’t. I was selfish.”
Shock rippled through Ron’s body and incomprehension froze his brain.
“But you still forgave her?”
Hermione examined him with mild interest, as though he was one of her old Ancient Rune assignments that needed to be analyzed and translated before she could make any sense out of it.
“Surprised, are you?”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be; I mean you are you.”
She grinned, and then sidled up to him, sitting closer to him then she did before.
“And what does that mean?”
“It proves exactly what my suspicions were, Hermione. You see the best in everyone, even in gangly gits like me.”
“That’s fine with me Ron, because you’re my gangly git.” With that, her lips found his, and she kissed him harder than she had ever kissed him before.
He detached himself after a moment, the shadow of a grin on his face.
“What?” For the first time all night, she looked self-conscious.
“Am I shocking you Ronald Weasley?”
“No, it’s just…toothpaste.”
The look she had made him want to burst out laughing.
“It’s just, after all these years, I see that being the daughter of bentists, or whatever they’re called, hasn’t affected your personal hygiene one bit.”
She giggled, and shook her head in exasperation.
“They’re called dentists, Ron, dentists.”
Their lips connected again, but this time, he was ready. He wound his fingers in her sweet smelling hair, every pore in his body filling with her intoxicating aroma.
Ron pulled back rather unwillingly, panting. Their foreheads rested against each other, brow on brow.
“That’s…it.”
Ron drew in a shaky breath and wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt.
“I can’t stand this anymore, Hermione. Take it off.”
She pushed herself back on her hands, bewildered.
“Come again?”
“Take it off.”
Hermione’s eyes were blazing, and with a sinking feeling he realised what he had just said, the exact opposite of what he had meant.
Ron instinctively caught the hand that was meant for his face.
“Let me go-Let me go you absolute arse, Ronald Weasley, how dare you-” She tried to wriggle out of his grip.
“Hermione, Hermione” he said softly. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Oh really, you masochistic, royal pain in the-”
“I meant the necklace, Hermione.”
“The-?”
Her eyes widened, and the struggle ended immediately.
“Ohh. Ron I’m sorry, I just thought…”
“Yeah, well that just shows how much faith you have in me, huh?”
He wasn’t angry at all. In fact, he found himself fighting a bizarre desire to laugh.
Hermione started to undo the clasp, but then she noticed a small seam going down the side of the shell.
“Ron, what’s this?”
“Wait.”
Ron studied her, looking at her properly for the first time in nearly a year. She had dark circles, almost like purple bruises under her eyes. She attempted to hide it with a little eye shadow that blended with her complexion, but he wasn’t fooled. Hermione doesn’t need to wear makeup.
“You know you’re brilliant, right?”
“Ron-”
He held up a hand to silence her. “Just hear me out, will you?”
She nodded, curiously appraising him.
“You deserve someone so much better than me, Hermione. Someone as clever as you, someone as selfless as you, someone who could protect you…” His voice faltered as he swallowed, his eyes glistening.
“That night, I-I never thought I was going to see you again, ever. But that’s not the worst part.” Ron paused pensively.
“I thought you were going to go without knowing how I-how I felt and still feel about you. I reckoned that it should be here, the very place where I had believed I’d lost you, where I should set things right again.”
His hands covered hers.
“I’m mad for you, and I always have been, I know that now. You’re the most important person in my life Hermione, and I don’t give a damn what anyone else says.”
He let out a soft whoosh of relief. “Blimey, that feels better. I really should have done that before, shouldn’t I?”
Ron released her hand, and Hermione slowly slid her fingernail down the seam, opening it with the air of someone uncovering a long forgotten treasure of yore.
Her mouth formed into an “O”. For once, she was completely speechless. Nestled inside the smooth shelter of the shell was a small ring, silver banded with a cerulean sapphire, flanked by a couple of tiny sparkling diamonds.
“Where did you-how-is that my-?”
“Birthstone? Yeah, it is. They’re pretty rare those. They’re not made in Britain though, they mainly come from-”
“Australia,” she finished in awe.
“You got this when we went to set my parents’ memories back, didn’t you?”
Ron bobbed his head, a bit sheepish. He gleefully took in her stunned countenance.
“I did a spot of research to find that out, I figured you’d appreciate that. It was around then when you asked me to come with you to set your parents straight. The timing couldn’t have been better.”
“Then I was looking up some Muggle marriage customs after we set the date for our trip; I read that the bloke is supposed to ask the dad before he… I reckoned I could…err…how does that Muggle saying go, ‘kill one bird with two rocks…?’ ”
Hermione disregarded his obvious butchering of Muggle proverbs.
“They knew all along, even mum?” She questioned indignantly.
“Both of them were thrilled, but to be honest, it took everything for her in particular to not to drop you hints about anything.”
“I can’t believe you did all of this; the ring, asking my dad, even cracking open a bloody book…”
“All for you, love. So, umm…” Ron got off the couch, and bended awkwardly to one knee. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"
***
“Ron, you stupid, stupid-” She launched herself at him before she could get out another word.
“Is that a yes?” he said, the light dancing playfully off his eyes. He slipped the ring on.
“It suits you Mrs. Weasley.”
She squealed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“I can’t believe I had this around my neck the whole time…” The darkness that had been marring her gaze was obliterated in one sweeping instant.
It matches his eyes Hermione mused, lightly outlining his jaw with her fingertips. She scrutinized him, permanently etching his every feature into her mind’s eye.
“You’re still a git, you know that, don’t you?”
“That’s all right, because I’m your git.” With a devilish grin, he snogged her senseless and all thoughts were shattered into a million tiny pieces.
A Mourning to Remember by hermy008
Chapter Endnotes: Yes, hermione's birthstone actually is a sapphire, and amazingly enough, that particular type of sapphire really is only found in Australia (and some other country, but for the life of me I can't remember what it is.)
As always, I love me some reviews. Hope you liked this chapter. We're in the home stretch now, folks, only one more chapter left. :D