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You & Me by alanapotter
Chapter 1 : You & Me
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 10


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Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape or form own Harry Potter, it's characters, etc. Nor do I own anything related to the song You and Me. They belong to JKR and Lifehouse, and their affilitates, respectively.






You & Me



What day is it?
And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive



Sitting at the kitchen table, Ron watched through the window as Hermione spoke animatedly to his sister. There was no doubt in his mind that the minor events of the day were being recounted: a precursor to what Hermione really wanted her to know.

He smiled to himself, still surprised at what he had accomplished during Ginny’s absence. He’d been attracted to Hermione for years, but somehow he had never been courageous enough to attempt to move their relationship beyond the terms of unsteady friendship.

Even after the Battle of Hogwarts lifted the heaviest burden from his shoulders, Ron still found that he was unhappy. Yes, he had lost his brother and many close friends, but that wasn’t it; death had left its mark, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from going on with his life. True, he had a fantastic job as an Auror and was paid well, not to mention the fact that his family was proud of him. But something was still missing: a hole still gaping in his heart.

I can't keep up
And I can't back down
I've been losing so much time



Day after day she had bounced into the Burrow, cheery and energetic, telling tales of her work at St. Mungo’s and the good she was doing in the world. He clung to her every word, waiting to hear the same kind of loneliness ringing from her tone, but it never had. Any such emotion was well hidden in the corners of her soul: a place he had never been allowed to reach.

Flicking his wand, Ron summoned a couple slices of bread and a few pieces of bacon to fly over and stack in front of him. Chomping into his sandwich, he regretted the years they had lost because of his inability to confess his true feelings - at least of the romantic kind. It was only now that he really took notice of the time that had been wasted.

He would be eternally grateful for the one day he had caught her without her mask, without that steady reserve to hide her fears, and the changes that occurred as a result.

‘Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you



Ron walked nonchalantly into the living room, contemplating the decision he’d made to avoid Hermione’s presence. He froze when he saw a bushy head of hair held in a pair of hands; it was only then that her quiet sobs reached his ears. He slowly walked over to the settee where she sat. She didn’t move and he took a moment to analyze her; the week he’d stayed away seemed to have revealed emotions she’d previously tucked away. Sinking onto the cushion beside her, he put a hand to her back, moving it up and down, praying that the simple motion would soothe her.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he murmured.

She gasped and quickly sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Nothing!” Her high pitched voice scratched at the air. “It’s all fine, I was just reading something emotional and couldn’t help myself.”

Looking around, Ron failed to find any type of reading material.

“There’s not a book or anything around here, Hermione.”

She shot him a glare that seemed to ask why he took this moment to be observant, but remained silent.

As she continued to avoid the question he prodded a bit more. “So what’s so upsetting? I don’t think I’ve done anything stupid lately.”

Hermione let out a choked laugh. “No, Ron, you haven’t. You’ve been surprisingly absent these days.”

His brows furrowed. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Ron groaned. “Come on; just tell me for once so I don’t go around wondering what the hell you’re so upset about! Then you’ll be mad at me for making it worse, and I’ve been attacked by enough of your birds and Ginny’s Bat-Bogey hexes to last a lifetime!”

All of the things that I want to say
Just aren't coming out right



“What’s the point? You’re only asking to be polite, it’s not like you really care or anything.”

He scowled. “You know Hermione, you’re one to talk. It’s not like you’ve ever really cared about anything I’ve said or had issues with.”

Her eyes flashed, and she immediately began to counter his argument, talking so fast that he could hardly understand her words; he hadn’t expected her to stop until he’d recanted, but moments later she closed her mouth, raising her eyes to him, shocked.

“You’re right.”

“What?” Ron was taken aback, not really sure what was right; he’d easily lost track of what she was saying.

“I haven’t really tried to help you with anything besides homework… and that hardly counts.” Her eyes travelled over the matted carpet as she paused. Her next question escaped as only a whisper. “What are we Ron? I can hardly count that as a friendship.”

He regarded her quietly for a moment, the gears of his mind working furiously. “Where we are and where we want to be are kind of different, I think.”

She snorted. “And where exactly do we want to be?”


I'm tripping on words
You got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here


Scratching the back of his neck, his voice shaking slightly, he let his emotions loose; his words dripped with fear, anxiety, and hope as he spoke honestly for once in his life. “I dunno ‘bout you, Hermione, but I think we’d be… erm. Good together. You know.” He shrugged, avoiding her eyes and the rejection or sympathy he imagined filling her enticing chocolate orbs.

She remained silent and he grudgingly looked up; her eyes had narrowed and he couldn’t quite tell if the look on her face was anger or confusion.

“Yeah, I didn’t think we were really going to have the same idea,” his mouth ran away from his brain. “I’ll just, erm… go now.”


Ron stood, giving her one last uncertain look before turning on his heel and almost running out of the living room, admonishing himself for admitting such feelings.


“Ron!” Her voice surprised him and he spun around, his eyes bright and hopeful.


“I think we are on the same page.”


When his expression only changed to confusion, she clarified. “We’re thinking the same thing. I just wasn’t really sure how to tell you, or your family, or Harry, or…”


Her words were lost as he ran over and hugged her.


“So… you and me… we’re… you know…?” He leaned back to make eye contact.


Instead of replying Hermione leaned in and bestowed a gentle kiss upon his lips.



‘Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to prove
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you



Sighing, he saw that the two girls were approaching the house and stood up to open the door.

*          *          *



He paced back and forth through the kitchen of the flat, fingering a tiny velvet box.

Should I? Shouldn’t I? Bloody hell why is this all so difficult!?

It had been two years since he’d found Hermione in the living room of his parents’ house. Life together had treated them well. Of course there were still arguments and stubborn competitions, but what else would one expect from two people like them? For the fifth time in the last half an hour he opened the top and peeked inside, making sure the diamond-topped ring was still lodged in the designated spot. Satisfied, he turned to the clock.

4:45, still another fifteen minutes.

Another fifteen minutes to wait. Another fifteen minutes in which he would have to make a decision; the most important decision of his life.

The pacing and indecisive mutterings continued until a pop! resonated throughout the small room. Turning around, but keeping his hands behind his back, he smiled at the woman now standing in front of him. He took in her sharp work robes, kept a deep black by one of her special household spells, her bushy hair piled into a bun at the crown of her head and small dark circles under her sparkling eyes. To him she’d never been more beautiful.

There's something about you now
I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful
Everything she does is right



Moving forward, he planted a kiss on her lips and settled back in the same spot, his hands still behind his back.

“What’ve you got there?”

He’d expected such a question and had prepared accordingly. Grinning like a fool, he pulled out a single red rose and handed it to her. Hermione’s eyes widened in delight as she gently picked it from his hand, examining every petal.

“Hermione… You’re so wonderful… and I’m really glad we’ve been together these past couple years, and… there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I’m not really sure how to do it, and….”

“Of course there is,” she shook her head absently, still smiling and studying the flower.

He knelt down in front of her and held up the small box, its lid propped open. If he thought her eyes had widened before, it was nothing to the saucer-sized pupils she now had.

“I love you Hermione, and I was wondering if you would marry me?”

Cause it’s you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you


*          *          *


A stomach protruding a foot out in front of her and the woman still would not stop! At eight months pregnant, Hermione had continued to go in and do various tests for her patients. At eight and a half, Ron had finally been able to put a stop to it, but was surprised at the amount of energy and motivation she still had. From what he knew of pregnant women (a very small amount of information, his only true experience derived from being near Ginny two years ago) they were demanding and always tired. But she had hardly asked him for anything. Not to say that Ron was ungracious. He’d surprised himself by being attentive and more courteous than he normally would once her stomach started showing more.

Even though she wasn’t allowed out of the house without Ron, and therefore unable to sneak to work, Hermione found anything and everything that was wrong with their house and immediately set to fixing it, leaving her wand on the kitchen counter and putting her Muggle tools to good use.

It was a bright summer afternoon when Ron found her scrubbing the cupboards underneath the kitchen sink. He smiled and watched as the hair falling out of her tie fell around her face and immediately began to fluff and coil. She scrubbed one last spot with her sponge and pulled herself out from beneath the cabinet, having to manoeuvre around her giant mid-section, but managing easily enough. Ron was amused to see that the sponge was quite torn; various pieces were hanging on by only a thread or two and it was difficult to discern what colour it was supposed to be.

“I think you’ve done enough cleaning for a while. We won’t have to rearrange or scrub anything for at least another five years!”

She shot him a reproachful glare but he only smirked in return. Moving over to help her up, the sudden look of pain on her face sacred the life out of him.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?”

“I. Think. Baby. Coming. Now.” She breathed through the contraction.

His eyes widened, but he hastened to grab the bag they had prepared last week. Running back to the kitchen he helped her up, the pain seemingly gone.

“What was that?”

“I assume it’s a contraction… it’s the second one today…. That’s why I think we should go to Mungo’s.” She looked pensive, entering an area where she had little experience, the uncomfortable look revealing her fear. “They said I would know when the water broke though…”

Her voice trailed off as he dragged her out to the end of the street, muttering about her doing too much work and not noticing her water breaking. He stuck up his right arm and waited. It was unsafe for pregnant women to Apparate, fly or use Floo Powder or Portkeys and he had not yet learned to drive a car, so this was their only choice.

With a loud crack, the purple Knight Bus hurtled to a stop in front of them. They quickly clamoured on, Ron shoving some gold into Stan Shunpike’s hand.

“Where to?” Stan asked lazily.

“Mungo’s! My wife’s in labour! Hurry!”

Stan’s shocked expression rendered him immobile. Ron waved his hand in front of Stan’s face, preparing to hit him when that failed to pull him back to full consciousness. Fortunately, Stan shuddered and ran toward the driver’s seat as Ron formed his hand into a proper fist, screaming “PREGNANT WOMAN ON BOARD! MUNGO’S NOW!” at the top of his lungs.

They got to St. Mungo’s in record time, and Ron paced back and forth, waiting for them to tell him everything was alright. He’d refused to go into the birthing room… it seemed too gross for him to handle. They had discussed it previously, and they both agreed it was probably for the best; fainting in the room while the MediWitches were trying to do their job wouldn’t be helpful to anyone.

“Ron!”

He turned around to see Harry’s jet black hair bobbing down the corridor towards him, followed by the flaming red locks of his sister holding the hand of his godson.

“How’s Hermione?”

Ron didn’t have to answer as a MediWitch stuck her head outside the door and declared, “It’s a girl!”

The wails of the infant in the background were the sweetest music to ever reach his ears.

What day is it?
And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive.





A.N.: Firstly, I'd like to thank the wonderful Sarah (HogwartsGirl618) for her awesome beta skills and support :D

Secondly, I'd love for you to leave a review! Like it? Hate it? Even a quick sentence gives me the best motivation :]




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