Questions

Author's Note: Originally published on November 29, 2016

"So, uh, what did Dean help you with?"

Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling at his questioning tone, the hint of jealousy clearly evident in his voice. It would have infuriated her in the past, but now, after what they'd just been through, his doubt was almost silly.

The two of them walked down the well-worn path leading from Shell Cottage, the morning sun reflecting off the water in the distance. It was a cool morning, but the salty air was fresh—the complete opposite of the stuffy tent they'd been living in for months.

Ron clutched Hermione's hand firmly, his other arm slung loosely around her waist, steadying her as they gingerly stepped down the slope towards the beach.

As they picked their way down the rocks to the shoreline, Hermione could feel him radiating unvoiced distress. The fact that he wasn't pestering her was a sign that he really had matured, and it only caused her smile to widen.

"What's the smile for, Hermione?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

Ron slowed down as he watched her, her cryptic answers doing nothing to satiate his impatience. It seemed he was slowly learning to take his time and listen, especially when it came to her.

He gestured at a driftwood log, half-buried in the sand.

"Do you want to sit down?"

Hermione nodded, causing Ron to lean over and clear off a spot for them, not once letting go of her hand. He helped her sit, before taking a spot next to her.

"Thanks, Ron."

He nodded in reply and stared out at the slightly choppy water.

She slid closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, before letting out a sigh. Ron held her to him as they sat in silence, the crashing of waves on the shore their only source of distraction.

Ron couldn't stand it any longer. "So..."

She looked up at him, a single tear rolling down her cheek, causing the question to die in his throat.

"I was talking to Dean about what happened at Malfoy Manor."

"Bloody hell, Dean! I can't believe he would..."

She reached up and gently placed her finger on his lips, causing them both to shudder.

"Don't blame him, I needed to know. I needed to know what happened that night."

"You could have just asked me."

"Would you have actually told me?"

He shrugged, non-committedly.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Fine, then. I'm asking you now."

Ron shook his head and looked away. "I don't want to remember that night. Even if it's all I think about when I try to sleep."

Hermione's eyes bugged out in surprise. She hadn't realized how deeply it had affected him.

"What?" He pulled away slightly, as if he was ashamed to have admitted that to her.

Her hand squeezed his forearm, signalling that it was alright, and he moved back slightly, until their legs were touching once again.

"Please, Ron. Tell me what happened."

He looked down at her, and his resolve crumbled.

"What exactly did Dean tell you?"

"He told me everything from when we were separated, up until Dobby brought them here."

Ron took a deep breath and stared out at the water.

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"I don't know why people keep asking me that. Yes, Ron."

Ron took a shaky breath, and started speaking quietly. "When Dobby left with the others, Wormtail was sent to check on us, not knowing it was just Harry and I left down there."

His words sped up, as if saying them quicker would make them less painful.

"You were still screaming above, and we knew this was only chance. When he opened the door, we grappled with him and stopped him from calling for help. He tried to choke Harry, but had the slightest hesitation. We were able to secure his wand, but then…"

Ron stopped, a look of and revulsion crossing his face.

Hermione was breathless. "What happened?"

"His silver hand, it turned on him. It must have detected that he'd shown mercy to Harry, even just for a second. It… It reached for his own throat and started choking him."

Hermione gasped. "That's horrible."

"Harry and I tried to stop it, but it was too strong. You... you started screaming again, just as he collapsed."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Ron."

"I wasn't focused on anything but you at the time, but thinking back, his last act of, I don't know, pity, I guess, cost him his life."

"It saved us all in the end, didn't it?"

"It did."

Hermione shivered slightly, imaging how terrifying that must have been for Ron and Harry.

"Are you cold?" Ron suddenly asked in alarm. Hermione was wearing a thin robe, and there was a breeze from the sea. Before she could even respond, he answered his own question.

"Of course you're cold, I should have known. Bloody sodding idiot."

"Ron, it's fine." She brushed his cheek with her fingers, drawing his attention. "Please don't call yourself that."

He jumped to his feet and pulled off his coat, before wrapping it around her shoulders and sitting back down next to her.

She pulled it tightly around herself and breathed in his scent, taking in his warmth.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you for taking care of me."

He smiled as they snuggled together. "My pleasure."

After a shy smile, she gestured for him to continue.

"Harry and I ran up to the drawing room. We only had the one wand between us, so we waited for an opportunity. Griphook was being questioned, and you… you were just laying on the floor."

Hermione cut in. "I definitely don't remember anything after that."

Ron hugged her tightly to him, recalling the ordeal.

"Once Bellatrix had the answers she needed, she summoned You-Know-Who. Harry looked awful, but that was when…"

Ron's voice hitched and his hand rubbed up and down her side, as if to verify she was real and sitting next to him.

"That was when Bellatrix ordered Greyback to dispose of you."

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes again. She had no idea how close she'd come to dying. Ron shifted on the log, causing her to sit up. He took her hand in his, gripping it tightly, and continued.

"I couldn't let that happen, so I ran in and used Expelliarmus on Bellatrix to get her wand to Harry. We started throwing curses, but I… I couldn't get to you."

Hermione saw an intense look of anguish paint across his face.

"Bellatrix ordered us to stop and drop our wands. She had you, and was holding the silver knife to your throat."

He reached a trembling hand up and gently rubbed the healing would on her neck, causing Hermione to close her eyes and lean into his touch.

"We gave up and threw down our wands. Draco collected them, and again, you… you were to be given to Greyback."

She shuddered, imagining the possibilities.

"Poor Dobby saved us. He tried dropping the chandelier on Bellatrix, but you and Griphook got the worst of it. While Harry and Dobby were fighting Bellatrix and the Malfoys, I pulled you out of the wreckage."

He caressed her cheek briefly, before puling his fingers away, as if they'd been acting on their own accord.

"You'd already been through so much. I was so worried."

She simply nodded, her eyes swimming, and prompted him to continue.

"Draco was injured from the shattered glass, so Harry managed to grab all of the wands he'd collected. He threw one to me and ordered me to get out, so I did. When we arrived here, I brought you to the house. Fleur and Bill checked you and said you'd be alright, and then I stayed with you until you woke up."

Ron shrugged, as if he hadn't done something special, extraordinary even. "Now you know everything."

"Oh, Ron."

He held her for a while as she cried in his shoulder, the full extent of that horrible evening revealed at last. They'd barely escaped with their lives and had lost an innocent one in Dobby. He whispered comforting words in her ear, reminding her that she was safe and protected.

As her cries subsided, she realized he was once again being selfless and comforting her. She had wanted to help him. Determined to do so, she dried her eyes on the arms of his coat and faced him.

"Ron, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes?"

She held his hand again. "Look, you know you can talk to me, right? What we went through, not just me, but you and Harry as well... it's not something to be shrugged off or ignored. I know it must have affected you."

"What's important is getting you better, Hermione."

"No, Ron. Do you think I'll feel better, knowing that you haven't been able to deal with what happened?"

"I… It doesn't matter, as long as you're recovering."

She huffed in frustration. "Always so stubborn. You've been so lovely these past few days, why can't you just be honest with me?"

She could see the struggle on his face, though she didn't know why he was avoiding her questions.

"Fine!" Ron practically shouted. "It was horrible down in that cellar. Hearing your screams… it was the worst thing I've ever been through. Every time I try to rest, all I can hear is you, in pain. I wish… I wish she would've taken me."

"Ron Weasley, don't you ever say that again."

He stood up suddenly, throwing her slightly off-balance for a moment, and paced in the sand, his boots leaving sharp and deep imprints.

"It's bloody true and you know it, Hermione." He raked his hands through his long, unruly red hair, causing it to stick up wildly and flutter in the wind. "If anyone deserved that it was me, not you. Never you. Anybody but you."

She softened at his declaration, but she had to let him know that he couldn't think like that.

"Ron, please. Do you think it would have been any better for me to have been down there, hearing you being tortured? You tried, Ron. You volunteered to take my place. That was the bravest thing I've ever witnessed."

Ron stopped and looked at her like she'd been Confunded.

"That can't possibly be true, Hermione. With everything Harry's done."

Tears were running down Hermione's cheeks now.

"Yes, Ron," she pleaded. "To me it was. You did it to try and save me. You did. No one else."

She quickly scrubbed her cheeks and took a deep breath before reaching up her hand to him. He took it and she gently pulled him back down to the weathered log.

"I could hear you, you know. Through the floor, shouting my name. Trying to get to me. You gave me something to focus on. To keep fighting for."

"Gods, Hermione, I just… I couldn't get to you in time. I tried, and I failed."

He looked down at the ground, shamefaced.

"Dean told me everything, and the state you were in when she was attacking me. I know you did everything you could."

Ron continued staring down, nudging at a broken shell with his boot.

"It wasn't enough to stop her from torturing you."

Hermione once again placed her head on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter, Ron. I'm here, alive, because of you."

Ron whispered, as if admitting his deepest, darkest secret. "I thought for a minute there that I'd lost you."

"You didn't."

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. That was the most scared I've ever been in my life, Hermione."

She felt another rush of affection for him in that moment and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and they sat like that for a long moment revelling in each other.

Though he didn't say it, it was obvious how much he cared for her, and that made her smile.

As they broke apart, she looked in his face and saw something she'd never seen from him, or more likely, he'd never let her see. It was a sort of reverence, no, love, as he brushed a flyaway chestnut curl behind her ear.

It was unspoken, but they both knew.

After a few moments, Hermione nudged his shoulder.

"Should we head back?"

Ron seemed like he still had something to say. His brows were knotted in thought and his toe was tapping; a sure indicator of his nervousness.

"Wait, Hermione, there's something I need to say. When I was waiting for you to wake up, I swore something to myself."

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Hermione Granger, I'm sorry. Sorry for what you went through. Sorry for leaving. Sorry for Lavender. Sorry for every time I've hurt you. I… I just needed you to know that."

She nodded, and hugged him again.

"Ron, you don't need to apologize to me. We've… both done things to hurt each other." She laughed, mirthlessly. "Dean even told me why you started going out with Lavender in the first place. I wish you would have just told me about the fight with Ginny."

Ron looked sheepish. "Not my finest moment."

"Well, I'm not proud of setting those canaries on you, either."

"Those bloody things hurt."

She smacked him playfully on the arm, before looping her arm through his.

"We've wasted so much time." Hermione couldn't believe she said it out loud.

Ron stared in her eyes, suddenly serious. "We have. But, as much as I… I hate to, I think we need to finish the mission, before… um… we move forward with other things—other things we really, really want."

Hermione thought it was the most Ron-like sentence she'd ever heard. Awkward, sweet, and true. As sad as it made her, she agreed with him. They needed that barrier in order to focus on Harry.

"I want those things too, when this is all over."

Hermione squeezed his hands, staring at their interlinked fingers while summoning her courage. She leaned forward and ever-so-gently placed a soft kiss on his cheek, where Bellatrix had struck him, sealing their agreement. She couldn't help but notice the awestruck grin on his face.

The wind was starting to whip up her hair, and she shivered, despite being in his embrace.

"Let's get back, Hermione."

He helped her up, and they made their way towards Shell Cottage, hand-in-hand, things between them finally clear.

They took a slightly different way up the hillside towards Bill and Fleur's home. As Hermione looked down, she noticed something strange. There was another set of footprints parallel to the path they were now on.

She crouched down to examine them further. There was a certain familiarity to them.

Ron, who'd kept walking, came to a halt and looked back, confusion written all over his face.

Hermione was looking at the dried impression, comparing it to the one Ron had just made. They were the same as Ron's, but much deeper, as if he'd been carrying a weight...

Ron took a step forward. "Everything alright, Hermione?"

She nodded and stood back up, staring at him.

"You really carried me up all this way? I know Dean said it, but it didn't really register until now."

Ron blushed and examined his toes, kicking at an imaginary pebble. "Yeah, it was the fastest way to get you to the house, and—"

He stopped, observing at her.

"And?"

"I didn't want to let you go."

For the second time that morning, Hermione ran to him and crushed him in a tight hug. His admission had breached the barrier, if only for a second. A wonderful, amazing second.

Ron blushed as she grabbed his hand again and started climbing up.

"C'mon, Ron. I'm sure the others must be wondering where we are. We wouldn't want to give them any ideas, would we?"