I glanced over at Hermione. She was sitting right across from me at the kitchen table, listening intently to the speaker and scribbling things down on a piece of parchment. I watched as her hand stopped moving madly across the parchment, and as her face grew crimson red. She knew I was watching her. She looked up at me and I found myself looking into her gorgeous ember eyes. We stared for a moment before she smiled weakly and went back to writing things down on her piece of parchment.
Taking my eyes off her, I looked around the kitchen. It was cluttered with members of the Order, listening intently to the speaker, Mad-Eye Moody, as he went over the final plans for tomorrow. It doesn’t matter to me, I have one job and that is to help Harry fight Death Eaters until he finds Voldemort…or until Voldemort finds him.
Not that hard, right?
Wrong. It was hard. Extremely hard…when you stare death in the face.
Many will die tomorrow. There’s no denying it, I could be one of them. I’m only 18 years old and I might never reach 19. Never have the opportunity to really experience life… get married, have kids, watch them grow up, that kind of thing.
Again, I stared at her, thinking about the months that had passed since Dumbledore died. She was really the only reason I had survived those months. If she had not been there with me, helping me search through endless piles of books for any little trace of a horcrux, I would have gone mentally insane.
It had not been an easy task, finding the horcruxes. Suffering multiple physical injuries along the journey and then the emotional injuries. Tonks’s death, Fred and Georges deaths, and then watching as McGonnegall tell Hermione her parents had been killed. Watching her fall to floor, sobbing hysterically, then picking her up and sitting with her for hours holding her hand while she cried. Harry had eventually gone to bed that night, leaving the two of us alone. Hermione didn’t seem to mind sitting there in the darkness and me right next to her, stroking her hair. Sitting in the darkness that night was when I first realized Hermione and I had a sort of pact. We both knew we were supposed to be together but not then. Not when our main focus was helping Harry and getting rid of the horcruxes. What was supposed to happen would eventually happen, just not then. So, what about now?
What about if we’re supposed to be together as I sit in this room, that is so full of fear and tension. That’s when I started doubting if Hermione and I were really supposed to be together. If we were, shouldn’t we be together already? I mean, tomorrows the final battle and we haven’t even admitted our feelings to one another. What time is there now to admit I love her? None. Absolutely no time at all.
I was startled out of my thoughts with the sound of scraping wood on the floor, signaling the end of the meeting. I watched from my chair as people slowly filed out of the door, mumbling good-byes and nodding their heads.
I saw Harry sitting in his chair, a couple places down from me. People were patting his shoulder lightly as they walked past him. He didn’t acknowledge them at all; he just stared at the table in front of him. Looking up, I spotted Hermione. She was saying good-bye to Remus and Mad-eye so I waited for everyone to exit or if they were staying here, to go up to bed. Finally, when we said good-night to my mum it was just the three of us.
Ron, Hermione, and Harry
All was silent for a minute as the three of us took in out surroundings and glanced at each other... Hermione wasn’t crying, which was surprising and Harry had no traces of any emotions on his face.
“So this is it?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“No, Ron,” Hermione said, her voice becoming confident. “No, this is not it! I will not let this be it! We are going to make it tomorrow. All three of us.”
“We’ve taken everything they’ve thrown at us. And we’ve survived every single time. Why does tomorrow have to be so different?” she asked us.
“Hermione-,” Harry started weakly, his voice was worn, as if he had heard this speech one, two many times.
“No Harry!” Hermione cried. “You can’t think like that! You’ve got to have hope! It’s the only way we’ll make it tomorrow. Thinking you’re going to die going into the fight is like saying your committing suicide. Go into that battle tomorrow telling yourself you’re going to kill Voldemort and you are going to live.”
“But-,” Harry said, again.
“She’s right, mate,” I said quietly, cutting him off.
“I know she’s right,” Harry admitted quietly before standing up and pacing for a few minutes before speaking again.
“If we don’t... if I don’t make it tomorrow I just wanted to say thank you for sticking with me through everything,” he said, staring at his feet. “And that I…I love you guys.”
“We love you too, Harry,” Hermione smiled at him, throwing her arms around him.
“And Harry,” she said, pulling away from him, “don’t thank us. We’ve perfectly well known what we were getting ourselves into and if I can speak for Ron and I, there is no way we would have had it any different.”
“No regrets then?” Harry smiled down at her.
“No regrets,” she said firmly before looking over at me waiting for a reply.
“Not one,” I lied. I had one regret and she was standing right in front of me.
“See?” Hermione said, “No regrets. And I think I’m going to bed. See you both in the morning.
She slightly smiled at me before walking up the steps quietly. It was just Harry and me now. Best mates until the very end.
Harry turned towards a cabinet and rummaged through it before pulling out two bottles and handed me one. I realized instantly it was a bottle of Fire Whiskey. Both of us had grown fond of this drink in the last couple of months.
I took a sip of the bottle and felt it burn the top of my tongue, but nonetheless savored the taste before swallowing the potent drink. Harry was doing the same too. Standing next to me as the silence surrounded us. It was a comforting silence, a silence resulting purely out of the fact we didn’t know what to say to one another. But it was enough for us, between Harry and I silence was better… because who knows would come put of mouths at some point. Funny, we could never seem to stop swearing and Hermione always called us on it too, scolding us.
I heard a clunk and saw Harry had finished his drink and had set it down on the counter. He turned to face me and we stared at each other before he spoke.
“I think I’m going to head up,” he said calmly.
“Really?” I asked him skeptically. I doubted he was going strait to his room when Ginny was here, in the house.
“Well…,” he started, not sure what to say.
”Go see her mate. I’m sure she’s awake,” I told him and watched as he grinned at me.
“Thanks Ron, night,” he said as he dashed up the steps to see Ginny.
I sighed and leaned against the counter, taking a swig of Fire Whiskey and staring around at my childhood home. Not a lot had changed. The old rickety wooden table was still surrounded with chairs, all shapes, sizes, and colors. My mum still had all the pictures we had drawn when we were kids hanging on the wall. There’s one of a lightning bolt Ginny had drew right after she had heard of the great Harry Potter. Beside that one was the one I drew when I had gotten home after my first year at Hogwart’s. Looking back now it seemed childish to draw a picture when I was almost twelve but Ginny wouldn’t stop pestering me to play with her. I was bored so I finally agreed and she had decided to color. The finished outcome was not good. I could bet nobody would be able to tell what it was. It’s the face I couldn’t get out of my head; the whole paper was full of brown squiggles I had tried to make look like hair. In the middle of the paper were two tiny brown eyes and a tiny pair of lips. It was a face I could never forget.
I turned away from the wall and finished off my drink and climbed the stairs before I reached my own room and walked in, closing my door behind me. My room hadn’t changed that much. There weren’t anymore posters on the walls but it was still the bright orange and red. I crossed over to my dressed where I pulled out a pair of pajama pants and got dressed for bed.
The house was silent and the ghoul above my bedroom was finally quiet. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared out the windows and into the dark sky. The moon was high above the sky, in the shape of a crescent. The stars twinkled around it and made it seem like things sparkled. I sat and admired it for sometime until I had completely lost myself in thought, not noticing somebody was knocking on my door.
I hadn’t noticed until a soft voice came from the other side of the door. I sat startled on my bed for a second too long, because the next thing I know, my doorknob was turning and I gasped when I saw who was standing there.
Hermione Jane Granger stood in my doorway, her hair was up in a messy ponytail and she had on a light blue robe I had seen so many times before when we would search through books.
Her eyes were wide with worry and I could tell she was nervous about something.
“Ron…” she said with uncertainty. I stared as she took another step into the room and gently pushed the door so it came to a stop, leaving a crack between the door and the wall.
She walked into the moonlight and I noticed her eyes were full of tears, the moon making them sparkle.
“Hermione, what’s wrong?” I asked her, standing up and walking over to her.
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Hermione?” I asked again, softer. She kept her eye’s shut, refusing to answer me. I reached out and took her hand in my own. She let me take it and then I felt her squeeze my hand, as if begging me not to let go.
“Love, tell me what’s wrong,” I asked softly, slowly stroking her hand with my thumb.
“Downstairs…,” she started, finally opening her eyes and looking at me.
“Downstairs when Harry asked us if we had any regrets,” she told me quietly, “I lied when I said I didn’t have any regrets. I have one.”
“When I went upstairs I couldn’t sleep, knowing you didn’t know the truth, Ron,” she told me, staring right into my eyes. Her hand was still grasping my own as she continued.
“Ron… I love you,” she said quietly, staring down at the floor. “That’s the truth; my regret is not telling you that before tonight.”
I could see her face flush scarlet and I felt my throat go dry. She loved me. She really did. I knew it all along, but doubted it. Know she was here in my room and I could tell her I loved her too.
I was too shocked to see she had pulled her hand out of my own and was walking quickly to the door, to leave. With out think I took a giant leap and reached out for her, grasping her arm and caused her to spin around and come to a stop against my bare chest, her lips stopping a mere inch away from mine.
“Hermione, did you ever stop to think I may have had the same one regret too?” I asked my voice low and husky.
Then, barely enough time to see her eyes widen with shock, I kissed her. She froze for a second before relaxing and kissing back, tenderly. Her hands traveled up my chest and around my neck, pulling me closer to her. The kiss deepened within seconds, my hands pulling her by the waist closer to myself. Our pent up passion was pouring out of us rapidly as we kissed heatedly.
I pushed her against my door, hearing it snap shut and then lock itself. I pulled my lips away from hers and I could hear her groan. I smiled to myself as I kissed her down her jaw line, down her neck, gently nipping at her skin. Once I reached a spot below her ear I heard her groan pleasurably and the heat between us seemed to explode. My lips found hers and I pressed against her even more, trying to get as close as possibly.
I found the knot that held her robe closed and undid it, pulling her robe apart and off her shoulders. My hands began to wonder, exploring her body and I heard her whimper under my touch.
Again, I began to kiss her jaw line, her neck, and all the way down to her shoulder blade. My fingertips gently trailed up her arms and I heard her gasp.
“Make love to me,” she whispered. I looked up at her eyes. They were staring back at me, full of love and lust.
She kissed me again, before I cupped her backside and lifted her up, so that her legs were fastened around my waist. I held her tightly, and carried her over to my bed and lay her down. I sat up looking down at her and I realized she was wearing an old tattered tee-shirt that was know around her stomach, exposing her beautiful dream colored legs and a pair of blue knickers.
I leaned down, just enough so that our noses were touching and looked at her.
“I love you, Hermione,” I said softly, lightly touching her cheek.
“I love you too.”
I reached down and pulled her shirt off her and kissed her passionately.
Then we made love for the first time, hoping it wouldn’t be the last and I fell asleep with her in my arms.
Knowing our love was always meant to be and no matter tomorrow’s outcome our love would be there for eternity.
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