Nightfall at the Burrow was her favorite time, she decided. The already peaceful sea of red hair, settled upon by a blanket of quiet, was perhaps where she felt most at home. Well, not literally because she had her own…
Oh dear, I’m rambling again!
She really didn’t know what was going on in her head. It had been three long dreadful weeks of funerals and remembrances, weeks of soaking Ron’s robes in tears, and all she could think of was Ron. Every time they went to mourn for a friend that they would never have back, she was always comforted by the fact that they would be huddled together the whole day. The hours of solace in each others’ arms was the only thing keeping her from going mad.
She wasn’t weak, she was far from it in fact -- it was one reason, one of the few, she had for thinking that Ron liked her.
It really made no sense. Sure, they had kissed nearly a month ago, but that was different.
Was it? Why can’t I see that he obviously reciprocated? Hermione’s thoughts were racing in anticipation at her train of thought, and especially its destination.
He must feel something for…whatever this is.
It was true, she couldn’t deny. He would be doing some boring chore or helping Mr. Weasley with something from his big treasure trove of Muggle things, and then Hermione would show up. Ron could be deeply entrenched in a toolbox, ensconced in an argument over Quidditch and the Cannons, or -- her favorite -- covered in the grime of de-gnoming or from yard work, and he would go to her at the literal drop of whatever he was holding. It was like he…
***
It was like he fancied her.
You stupid git, every time you see her you drop a hammer on your dad’s foot or something. If she thought you were thick before, she’s definitely now surprised you came back without a single ‘T’ in sixth year.
Ron was, apparently, highly interested in re-wiring a plug with his father. Everyone just thought he had a newfound love for Muggle things.
Well, one Muggle-born in particular, if that counts…
But in reality all this dull, hard work was time to discuss things, both with Mr. Weasley and himself. He needed to disentangle from the confusion about Hermione, and he figured the man that had loved his mum undyingly for so long was the easiest access point.
–But, y’know, sometimes I feel like a right prat.†Ron started. –The way I can go on and just screw everything up just by talking.â€
Ron was in full-on ramble mode, and Arthur knew it well by now. It was strange, really, the first day that Ron asked to help take apart several of his favorite contraptions. He came up, red ears and all, declaring that he needed to do some serious talking to his father and Arthur was just happy to spend some time with his youngest son again.
–Well, Ron, you have to remember…†Arthur fumbled with his screwdriver explaining this for the umpteenth time that day. –You have to remember that asking forgiveness should be the easiest with the person you love. Take your mother for instance, she could blow me up to hell and high water every time I’m caught enchanting an Anglia, but in the end we go back to…this.â€
He had some difficulty placing this last curious strand where he thought it should go. It was probably a safety measure or something, he thought. Now that that was sorted out -- or as sorted out as Mrs. Weasley would let him, she rarely allowed him to test anything in their home -- they moved on to a rusted old tractor.
Unfortunately for him, he had let Ron hoist the thing up by the front end. Doing manual labor seemed to help him concentrate better. Luckily it was a big enough project that the bushy haired girl didn’t cost Mr. Weasley another trip to St. Mungo’s that month -- this time Ron just let the weight slip on to Mr. Weasley’s leg for a few moments before allowing the man to escape the death trap waiting behind the old mower.
–H-hi…â€
Ron was a wreck the moment he saw her. It happened every time, Arthur thought, it didn’t matter whether she was just as sweaty and greasy as he or Ron. His face lit up, hers as well, and they just gawked at each other for a few moments before Arthur quietly excused himself for a drink.
Those two are going to give Molly a heart attack, or kill me, if they don’t get this over with already.
***
It was like Ron had never seen her before. Every single time, he’d act like he did when he was smitten with a love potion -- only this time it was the real deal. It was worse when she snuck up on him, because he couldn’t get his opener figured out and he couldn’t even remember what he had been doing just moments before. Hell, even when he did figure a question or statement out he’d just forget it, stutter out a hello, then proceed to wince at his own stupidity.
That did it. Seriously, how did I get by all this time?
He looked back up at Hermione.
Oh, right.
–So…are you done working with your dad? I thought maybe we could…†she trailed off, blushing at even finishing the sentence.
–Uhh…oh, yeah, he’ll probably want to rest on that leg, bloody help I am.†At this Hermione couldn’t help but grin, hoping Ron would unlatch himself from this self-defeating stupor.
I nearly chop my dad’s leg off for the tenth time this summer, and she grins? She is mental.
But, if nothing else, her smile was infectious. So with a noncommittal smirk he chuckled and started walking from the shed with Hermione in the lead.
I don’t understand how anyone in their right mind could overlook her.
He knew by this point he was staring, and whether she noticed or not, she never said anything to him. She was dressed for working around the house; tightly fitting jeans splattered with all kinds of cooking ingredients, a t-shirt that vaguely spelled out ‘The Chudley Cannons’, and a mane of what was less like hair and more a brown mist of curls and tangles that stretched behind her head.
She could walk around like this all day and I would be the happiest man on earth.
–So…what do you wanna do?†he asked quickly before she began to raise her eyebrow, noticing his eyes drift further south from her hair. She might pretend to not notice, but sometimes Ron could be a little too…Ron for an exchange like this.
–Well, the lake is bound to be nice and cool, so I thought we could just sit over there for awhile?â€
Ron simply nodded, this time looking out for the root he had tripped over numerous times in this same situation. One moment he would be looking at Hermione, taking in every inch of her…
*THUMP*
And he would be laying face first in the dirt, just as he was now. If Hermione hadn’t laughed with such a combination of care and glee every single time this happened he might have imploded from embarrassment. Now it was a simple Charm and full minutes of giggling for both of them. Hermione really did feel a pang of embarrassment that she made Ron hurt himself like that, but she always gave out that half-laugh, half-sigh.
–I could listen to that laugh forever.â€
Ron felt a lump start in his throat and his ears set fire.
Now why did I have to go and do that? It’s like I’m asking her to go to her parents’ for the rest of the summer with all this.
Having now condensed the most embarrassing times of his life into a neat ten minute interval so that Hermione could really contemplate this, she simply kept grinning. Maybe this time she looked more like Ron’s hair than her usual skin tone, but it was better than gaping at him like he had three heads. Ron didn’t know how he was going to deal with this, so he just kept his trap shut for the remainder of the walk.
***
They found themselves out by a beautiful lake taking up a majority of the horizon, it was nearly an hour’s walk past the Burrow’s Apparation barrier but it was safe enough nowadays to be used for times like these. All Hermione knew was that it was the only place they could actually talk about their…whatever, without getting interrupted by Mrs. Weasley’s seemingly endless smile at the two of them. They had only been over this way once for this kind of talk, right after the Battle and immediately following their return for Fred’s funeral, but they both had it firmly cemented as their place.
Ron was standing a good five feet away from Hermione; a distance she thought was far too much. Without really thinking about it she sidled over to him and tucked her hand into his and let her head fall on his shoulder, forcing them into a sitting position. She didn’t care that it was peaking into the 30’s Celsius, or that they were both sweating and covered in respective greases, she just wanted to be entwined with him. Ron had seemed to muster all his courage because he simply let it happen without gulping or becoming as stiff as the tree they sat up against, and the closeness made Hermione smile.
A full hour must have passed like this, them sitting underneath a tree taking in the shade and cool breeze, and each other. Their hands were now idly playing with the others’ and this simple act of intimacy was enough to fill a thousand books, Hermione thought and before she could gather up her own courage to turn around, Ron cleared his throat and spoke.
–Right, so…so, I should have said this a long time ago. Really I should have said something at least. I mean, what with the…kiss at Hogwarts and everything. I mean, I get that you were caught up in the moment; it’s all right if it was a mistake. You might think this is a mistake too, but…God.†Ron was blabbering, she knew it, but she let him continue his progressively faster ramble. –Hermione, I j-just…I can’t stop thinking about you. Every damn second of the day I’m fixing something or cleaning the whole bloody world, trying to figure out how to do this.â€
If I don’t do this soon, I don’t know if I’ll ever do it.
Without any more hesitation Ron took Hermione’s hands and pulled her closer to him. She had only been this close when she leapt on him during the Final Battle, but this time she was this close because he was initiating it.
He didn’t speak; he didn’t even change his expression. He didn’t need to because his kiss had done all the talking. At first it was a gentle, almost ethereal, peck on her lips, but he could feel her grasping harder on his hands when he deepened the kiss. She let him take the lead and even went so far as to join him when he slowly, cautiously put his tongue in her mouth. Breathing seemed unnecessary in this position, as Ron spilled his thoughts out in the way he knew best -- action.
They broke apart, breathing and staring at each other. It took everything she had not to blush at the sudden intensity of the moment, and everything he had not just go right back at it.
–Hermione, I love you.â€
These words pierced harder than his kiss just moments before. Every doubt she had -- every little insecurity -- fell by the wayside for this incredible burning feeling deep in her chest. It could have been a sarcastic remark, but a moment later she realized what it was. She couldn’t rightfully respond, and after a few seconds of spluttering nonsense she finally said, shakily,
–Ron, I…l-love you too!â€
Ron would have been scared by the brief moment of silence, or by the stutter, had Hermione not tackled him onto the ground. She betrayed all those years of the book-worm stigma; she could feel something rise up inside her…
–Woah, Hermione! Maybe we should…uhh, slow this part down a tad?†he had been accosted on all fronts by her. It was terrifying seeing her like this at first; he didn’t know what he supposed to do with her bushy hair covering up all the messy, angry kisses. But she immediately blushed ruby red and would have likely burst into tears if he wasn’t cautious when she decided to explode on top of him.
–Oh my god, Ron…I must look like an idiot! I probably seem like a right…†she looked absolutely appalled at what she had just done. She couldn’t finish the sentence and ran off, her moment of intensity now subsided and the reason flooding back to her. She didn’t know what she had done; only that it was on par with Ron’s relationship with Lavender, and she would have none of that.
What if he thinks this is just some summer fling? What if it is? I know he said the ‘L’ word, but he must have said the same thing to Lavender a dozen times before having her jump on him the same way!
Ron was too quick for her and caught up before she had time to leave the shade of the tree.
–Hermione, I…I just don’t want to ruin this, y’know? I want us to go at the right pace. I want it to be the best it can be, the best we can be.†Even he was a little shocked this came out of his mouth. Maybe the suddenly released tension was enough to give him a spine for once.
–I left you this year, and I’m not going to make that same mistake. I just want you to be happy, and I don’t know how we could handle a sudden…jump in our…this, y’know?â€
She knew he was right the moment she had stopped straddling Ron, but to hear it come from him so matter-of-factly was simply too much for her. She couldn’t hold back the tears, and she would have fallen back onto the tree had Ron’s pleasantly calloused hands not scooped her up from the fall.
–Uhm…I mean, I meant what I said. E-every word of it. I do love you.â€
–I know, Ron…but, you just said all the right things…it was, just…†she couldn’t keep it in, and snuggled into his chest with a pleasurable sigh, letting him take the lead on the walk back in the fading light as she once again soaked his clothes with her tears.
By the time her eyes had dried, neither of them was able to understand that it was easy as this. He just upped and kissed her, and now they were both expressing their love for one another. Sure there were a few roots along the way, but…
Blimey if I thought it was this easy, I wouldn’t have waited five bloody years for this…
***
The Lake by opti
Chapter Notes: Ahh, fluff at it's poorest! As usual, all characters and world ideas are owned by JKR and I'm just unable to create my own toys.
1000+ reads... you guys are insane. Why aren't you reading HalfASlug and WeasleyMom's R/Hr's?
Chapter Endnotes: Well, if you enjoyed my attempt, or especially if you thought it was tripe, please leave a review!
Consider this a one-shot from now on. I have too many ideas that don't really work with this story anymore. Sorry.