Disclaimer: Est mihi non "Harry Potter." (Not mine.)
Lavender
He was flying above the trees, with nothing underneath him for support. He spread his arms out to either side of his body and relished in the cool air that whipped past him. He looked down, and he watched as the choppy sea played just below his shadow. If he stretched his hand down, he could just skim the surface of the water.
The longer he gazed at the cerulean depths, the clearer a face became on its surface. The eyes came first: dark brown and full of love. Then, the nose and mouth: both petite and gentle. Her whole face came together bit by bit until her bushy brown hair bordered her features and her mouth broke into a grin.
"Hey, you," she said in the most delicate voice, giving him a slight nudge.
Ron opened his eyes fully and saw Hermione leaning over his bedside, her hair dangling over him just enough to tickle the sides of his face.
He grinned at seeing her first thing in the morning; it was quite a change from the strident orange posters he was accustomed to seeing. He grinned even more once he realized that she was leaning down to kiss him.
Her lips just barely brushed his, as they were both still getting used to each other in this context, but it was enough to make goose bumps rise on his arms and his cheeks to blush crimson. Once he got more comfortable with the situation, Ron brought his hand up to the nape of Hermione's neck and pulled her in closer, not wanting to let this feeling of bliss go.
After a few minutes of kissing, Hermione withdrew from Ron, who whimpered slightly at the loss. Hermione smiled, traced her finger around his face, and sat next to him on his bed, gesturing for him to sit next to her. Ron sat up straight against the headboard and stretched his long arms like a cat after a fulfilling sleep.
Slowly, he made his way out from under the covers to Hermione's side. Once he was settled, she took hold of his hand, and Ron blushed again. She leaned to the side and rested her head on his shoulder. Ron was grateful for her presence, and for once did not question why she was doing the things she was.
Ron turned his head to the side to look at the love of his life and received a face-full of Hermione's hair. Since it was so humid in the Burrow, her hair had puffed out to twice its normal size. Relaxing, Ron breathed in deeply and took in the scent he had smelled only once before…in a certain sixth year Potions class. He was enthralled by this scent, mesmerized by the way it made him so light-headed.
As he continued to breathe in Hermione's aroma, she took her head off of his shoulder and gave him a look of questioning amusement.
"What do you do to your hair to make it smell that good?" Ron asked dazedly, the effects of her sweet-smelling hair still lingering.
"I just wash it," Hermione said, her amusement at Ron's behavior showing on her face as she pulled absent-mindedly at her hair.
"But with what?" Ron persisted, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.
"Shampoo? What else?" Hermione said, nearly laughing.
"What kind?" Ron persevered as he pulled Hermione's head back towards him.
"I think it's…lavender," said Hermione contemplatively.
At the same time, Ron's face paled and Hermione's eyes grew wide at the word that had slipped from her mouth: lavender. Whether she meant to or not, Hermione had brought up the forbidden subject, the subject that had caused so much pain and anguish to all parties involved. All at once, visions of Hermione's crying, birds attacking, and Lavender's pestering filled Ron's mind.
A second later, however, Ron's mind traveled to happier places: ones with Hermione's laughter and tears, his comforting of her, and finally sharing their first kiss in the heat of battle.
He also remembered how brave Hermione had been when she saved Lavender from being savaged by Greyback. He realized how mature Hermione was, and that every single accusation she made of him was absolutely true.
He shook his head at how foolish he had been in sixth year, and how much he had grown since then.
Hermione, taking Ron's shaking head as a bad omen said quickly, "Oh, Ron I'm so s—"
Before she could apologize for mentioning Lavender's name, Ron pulled her in for another kiss, this time more tender and affectionate than their first.
Between soft kisses, Ron whispered, "It doesn't matter."
Another of my midnight inspirations. I hope you enjoyed it.
Review, per favore!