Disclaimer: I don’t own HP, if I did Hermione and Ron would live happy ever after and Harry would get over his ‘hero’ complex and get with Luna (you heard me!), so don’t sue, unless of course I cause irreparable mental damage, then I’ll give everything in my bank account (all 15.25 euro of it!).
Rating: PG - one or two cusses but nothing big. And I’m just being careful there. Is ass a swear?
Summary: Ron’s been running hot and cold and Hermione sick of it. She wants to know how he feels. The extract at the bottom of the page is my inspiration, not much I’ll grant, (or you could take it that it paraphrases my fic). I got it in an e-mail, you might even recognise it.
Archive: Just send me the link.
Hermione had officially had enough of it: the petty fights, the full-blown arguments, sullen silence, followed by abject apologies and furious making up. Best friends one minute, closet couple the next, hot and cold till she didn’t know where she stood.
Ronald Weasley was driving her crazy.
Looking back though, he always had. From the first moment on the train when she had been looking for Trevor and he’d botched the colour-changing spell. To the fact that he hadn’t figured out about his feelings for her in time to ask her to the Yule Ball, the one and only the school had had. To how he would never do his homework on time, instead wanting to copy what he could from her. To his steadfast refusal to be neat.
Her mother had laughed when she’d come home each summer and Christmas with new stories of how mad he made her. Looking at her only daughter with a knowing smile and refusing to tell what she knew. She would only say, cryptically, “You’ll see”.
And she had. She had seen the changes in their relationship almost before they happened. As they got older and their easy friendship had developed into something more. More than the brother/sister friendship that seemed to exist between her and Harry.
She needed to know how he felt. Today was the last day at Hogwarts, they had graduated the night before in an elaborate ceremony, they were adults in the yes of the wizarding world. Moreover, the logical thing to do as responsible adults would be to either cement their relationship or… or to be truthful about it and leave it behind them in Hogwarts.
So this was her being logical.
She was looking for him now
, right now, to ask him. To make him tell her what he felt. And if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear…Dammit! Don’t even think that
, she thought to herself.
He wasn’t in Gryffindor Tower at all. There was no point looking in the Library. And with the weather being as good as it had been lately, he must have gone outside to enjoy the sunshine. She glanced out the window to the Forbidden Forest and the Lake. Yes, there was his unmistakable tall figure skipping stone.
She headed out of the common room and started down the stairs, heading outside. She was on autopilot, one part of her making sure to jump trick steps and such while the rest was remembering. She was remembering first year again and the three of them had been caught on the moving staircase and had met Fluffy.
Or she, Ron and Harry taking walks down by the lake. Sneaking down to the kitchens for midnight snacks. Getting Harry ready for the TriWizard Tournament tasks, once Ron had gotten over himself. Hermione smiled. So many happy memories. And sad ones, she thought. Sirius’ death, Percy’s unerring loyalty to the Ministry when even those in the street could tell they couldn’t tell there ass from their elbow.
But then there had always been the three. Even through the changes they had been going through in the past year in their relationship, there had still been three, together.
To make it two. A couple. Hermione wondered if that was why they had never said it, made it official. Harry. Upsetting Harry. They had been tiptoeing around him. But even at the risk of upsetting Harry,
she thought steeling herself, she needed to know.
She hit the open air at a rush, almost running. Round the corner, past the greenhouses to the lake. She could see his broad shoulders from here. The muscular frame that made her made her heart thump even now. She was just glad he was on his own. This would have been unthinkable if Harry had been anywhere nearby.
He seemed to sense her coming because he turned as she neared. Hermione slowed now.
He smiled in greeting and turned back to the lake. Hermione followed his gaze to see, out in the lake, the merpeople had come up to the surface, the sunlight glistening off their scales as they dove and spun in the air. Almost like dolphins.
He grinned down at her, oh, he’d gotten so tall
“I’ve never seen them like this before, have you?”
She shook her head. Now that she was here beside him, her throat had gone dry, the words she wanted to ask caught, trapped.
The wind was blowing and she’d come out side without a cloak, thinking it would be warmer. She ignored the faint chill on the wind as she pushed her hair out of her face. Seven years later and it had not calmed one bit.
He saw her struggles and laughed. She blushed.
“Still beaver-haired Granger, eh?”
She ducked her head in embarrassment. Nevertheless, it was a happy diversion.
“I hate my hair.” A common phrase from her.
“I like it.” She looked up. Her face heartbreakingly serious, needing to know more. Do you lov…
God even in her head she couldn’t ask.
His face was bent down to hers.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” Hermione blurted out. It was stupid, she knew but it was the easier question and if he said…
“No.” The answer came uncharacteristically blunt. She looked away from him.
Unable to look at him, couldn’t see those eyes bright with sympathy, so she just watched the merpeople.
“Ron…” She took a breath. “Do you… Do you want to be with me? Forever?”
“No.” Again the same bluntness.
She was angry now. How could he be so- Didn’t he care for her at all? Harsh tears burnt at her throat.
“If I left? Would you cry? Would you even be upset?” She cried.
“No.” Softer this time. “Hermione…”
“No!” She yelled. “I thought! I- You- ARGH!” She turned on him. “I hate you!” She screamed.
She turned and ran, giving little thought to where she was heading. Ran around the lake towards Hagrids hut, ran past the Quidditch pitch, through the bleachers and to the outer edge of the grounds, ‘til she collapsed, unable to run anymore.
She cried, huge gasping sobs that left her needing breath ‘til she thought she’d pass out. She cried at losing the man she loved, the boy she’d grown up with, the person who had been sure she would marry.
“Merlin, Hermione, you’re a fast runner!”
“Go away!” She snarled. She hadn’t thought he follow and wished he hadn’t. Couldn’t he leave her alone? He obviously didn’t care for her to have lead her on so long. And to make her think…
“You really don’t give a guy time to make a response do you?”
He knelt down in from of her, taking her two small hands in his one and wiping the tears from her eyes with the other.
She gazed at him, confusion across her face.
“I don’t think you’re pretty-”
“No!” Once was enough to listen it. He went on as if there had been no interruption.
“I think you’re beautiful.” He brushed a stray bit of hair from her eyes as he gazed at her. “I’ve been kicking myself for three years that I didn’t ask you to that ball. Not because you looked beautiful then. Because you always look beautiful.”
Hermione eyes bored into his own, unable to grasp at what he had just told her.
“I don’t want to be with you forever.” Hermione didn’t look away. “I need to be with you forever. Merlin, if you were gone I don’t know what I’d-” He took a breath and closed his eyes as if that thought was too painful. Hermione raised one hand and laid it against his cheek; he leaned into it, comforted by her touch. Ron?
“And I wouldn’t cry if you left, Hermione.” His voice was low, guttural, with the sound of tears in it. He opened his eyes, blinking back tears. “I’d die. You’re my girl, Hermione. My everything. And I just-
“I was down there by the lake, just looking for the words, to tell you, to ask you-”
Hermione finally found her voice.
“Tell me what? Ask me?”
“To tell you, I love you.” He left no pause for her to reply. “And to ask you-” He faltered momentarily. “To ask you if you’ll marry me.” She opened her mouth to reply but now he’d started he couldn’t stop. “I want to marry you, Hermione, maybe not straight away; I know that, but someday. When we have a house and jobs and money. All those adult things we have to do now that’s we‘ve finished here. I love you.” He repeated.
Hermione waited. Not sure if he’d really finished this time or if he’d cut in again with something new. When it became clear to her that he was waiting for her to say something, she replied.
“I’m your girl? Since when?” She asked, when he nodded.
“Since the moment your hand connected with Malfoys face all the way back in third year.”
She laughed and threw herself at him, her arms wrapping themselves around his chest, her head burying in the crook of his neck.
“That a yes?” Ron asked once he’d managed to right himself and prevent them from falling in the grass.
“That’s a yes.” Hermione said, her voice understandably muffled. She smiled into his Weasley jumper. All tears wiped away, all doubts erased. He loved her and she loved him. And they were getting married. Ok, so she didn’t even have a ring yet…
“I got you this as well.”
Hermione looked up, shocked. He was holding out a box, a little black velvet ring box, to her.
He smiled that Weasley smile at her.
“Well, you did say yes!”
A girl asked a guy if he thought she was pretty,
She asked him if he would want to be with her forever....
and he said no.
She then asked him if she were to leave would he cry,
and once again he replied with a no.
She had heard enough As she walked away, tears streaming down
her face the boy grabbed her arm and said....
You're not pretty you're beautiful.
I don't want to be with you forever, I NEED to be with you forever.
And I wouldn't cry if you walked away...