Questions

Chapter 1 - Three Days Later

May 5, 1998

Stars filled the sky, their glow reflecting off the pond near the Burrow, the pond that Hermione could see from Ginny's bedroom window. She couldn't stop looking at the stars. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen them in a while. It was one of the few advantages to living in the woods, in the middle of the dark. You could always see every star shining so bright that you didn't even need a lantern or lamp to light your way.

But being here now, safe and home, or what she had come to think of as her second home over the past several years, these stars seemed to reassure her and to calm her.

There was a soft, almost inaudible knock on Ginny's half-open door and Hermione turned, knowing who it would be before she saw him. His red hair stood out in the moon and star lit room, his blue eyes glowing like two marbles in his head.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," she returned, just as softly. She walked across the room to join him by the door.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked, his voice raspy like he'd just spent the weekend at a Quidditch match screaming.

"In the loo," Hermione said, her eyes fixed on Ron's as he nodded slowly, staring down at her.

"I was about to go to bed. Mum wanted us all to get some sleep." Ron grinned a little and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you would tell me the same thing if I gave you the chance." His face cracked into a full smile now and Hermione couldn't help her lips from moving up into a grin as well.

"I'm not tired, actually. I don't think I'll be able to sleep soon," Hermione said, her eyes never leaving Ron's.

"Me either. I knew you would be awake."

"How?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. I just did."

She smiled up at him and he shifted his weight slowly from one foot to the other nervously. He looked away from her for the first time since entering the room.

"I thought maybe you'd like to come up... you know, to talk or whatever. It's quiet in the house... and we haven't really had much time to just... I dunno." He shrugged again and Hermione smiled.

"Of course."

"Okay. I'll just go change out of these clothes then." He backed out of the room and started up the stairs, turning around on the second stair. "5 minutes?" he called down to Hermione.

She nodded, looking out Ginny's room into the hallway. "Okay."

He turned and headed up the dark stairway to his room at the very top of the house. His room wasn't exactly tidy. In the three days since they had returned home he hadn't been especially careful about putting clothes away or keeping his belongings in order. His rucksack still sat in the middle of the room, only half unpacked from their year-long world-saving journey. He smiled when he saw the bag there, thinking that Hermione was sure to scold him for not unpacking it yet. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to straighten the mess before she came up. If he was really being honest, he wanted Hermione to scold him for the mess. He shook his head at that thought and began undressing.

The only clean clothes he had now were the ones he had left behind and his Chudley Cannon's t-shirt which had seen better days... but not since 2nd or 3rd year he guessed. So he settled on the bright orange hole-filled t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that were much too short on him now. He looked down at his exposed ankles in shock. Had he really grown that much since he had been gone?

He glanced to the clock on his night table, hoping five minutes had passed already. It was strange, really, needing Hermione by his side all the time. It wasn't really a new feeling. He always wanted her with him. When she was there, everything made sense and everything felt right.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees, waiting the last few moments before she would knock on his door. He smiled slightly to himself, remembering a night a long time ago when she had come down from the girls' dormitory at Hogwarts in her night dress at the same moment that Ron had walked down from the boys' dormitory in his robe and pajamas, both of them looking for something they had left in the common room earlier that night. Both of their faces had turned bright red as they awkwardly grabbed their things and returned to their dormitories. But Ron hadn't forgotten the brief glimpse of her in her pale pink dress, her eyes half-shut, moonlight creating a glow around her where the lace cuffs and edges of her dress danced over her pale skin.

Suddenly, he was returned to his bedroom and to the present as a soft knock jolted him from his memory. The knock was as light as his had been on her door earlier. He wasn't sure if they were being quiet to avoid waking anyone at the Burrow or if they just didn't want to disturb the calm that had finally begun to settle around the house this morning.

Ron stood to open his door. Hermione wore a t-shirt and pajama pants; not exactly, what he knew from that night long ago, the same thing she slept in when he wasn't around.

Hermione stayed still outside Ron's room for a moment when Ron backed up to let her in. He wondered briefly if she thought this was weird. It wasn't as if she had spent a lot of time alone with him in his room, especially not this late at night. But he didn't care right now, and he realized she must not have either when she smiled at him and walked past him into the room, settling on the edge of the bed where Ron had just been. He closed his door slowly and joined her, sitting to her left, close but not touching.

They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione spoke.

"I've been wanting to spend some time alone with you." She wouldn't look at him, and he realized the implications of what she had just said.

"You have?" The pitch of his voice shifted up a bit unnaturally as he spoke and he closed his eyes to the sound, embarrassed.

She nodded, but his eyes were shut just long enough to miss it.

"I feel like we have things to talk about... but when I start to say something, I realize I don't know what to say... exactly. Do you know what I mean?" She looked over at him now and he nodded his reply.

"Maybe we should play a game," Ron suggested.

"What kind of game?" A glimmer of excitement passed through her eyes as she turned more fully to the side to face Ron directly.

"Well," Ron began as he scooted back against the wall and stretched his legs forward, most of his lower legs hanging off the side of the mattress. "I'll ask you a question, anything, and you have to answer it. Then you can ask me anything you want to."

"Like what?" Hermione asked. Ron wiggled his ankles around, accidentally pushing Hermione with his knee. She responded by shoving his shins to the right, away from her, and Ron shivered a little at the contact of her bare palm against his bare legs that poked out at the bottom of his too-short pajamas. Ron crossed his arms over his chest and concentrated on coming up with a question, trying not to look so affected by her brief touch.

Hermione slowly got up off the bed, and Ron looked up, startled, hoping she wasn't going to leave so soon. Maybe this 'questions game' was a bad idea... But she didn't leave. She walked around Ron's legs and moved to his opposite side, climbing back onto the bed and sitting Indian style against his headboard. Ron smiled briefly, then looked down again and continued to think.

"I've got something." Ron looked up quickly to see Hermione watching him curiously from the head of the bed.

She waited silently for him to go on.

"Well..." Ron adjusted his body on the bed, trying for a more comfortable position. He attempted to move to the foot of the bed where he could stretch out further, but his long legs prevented him from being able to comfortably sit facing Hermione while keeping his feet out of her lap, so he got on his knees and crawled up to the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard to Hermione's right and stretching his legs down the length of the bed towards the foot board. He sat close to the edge of the bed, but could still feel Hermione's right knee against his left thigh. When he spoke again, it was slightly softer than before, now that he was so close to her.

"You remember in sixth year, Potions class... the Amortentia..."

As Ron trailed off, Hermione got a funny look like she was trying to hide something. Her expression could have been nervousness, but she was doing a good job of disguising it. Ron continued...

"You got a whiff of it and started to say what you could smell... you listed two things, grass and parchment I think it was?"

Hermione nodded, but now her face had gone a little more pale and she wasn't blinking, just staring forward as if waiting for him to get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid.

"You stopped before you could say what the third thing was. I've always wondered what it was. So... what was it?" Ron finished rambling and looked straight into Hermione's eyes, waiting for her answer. He realized suddenly that whatever it was, she both remembered it well and certainly didn't want to tell him what it was, even now. She laughed nervously and looked away from Ron.

"You really remember that?" she asked him, a little shocked, but mostly just trying to kill some time while she figured out how she was going to say this to him... Ron nodded, knowing that Hermione couldn't see him. She was staring a hole through his blanket now and her hair fell around her face, keeping Ron from being able to see her face at all. She finally turned back towards him, slowly, but didn't look directly at him. "It's funny... that you remember that."

"Not that funny. It was a secret, something you obviously didn't want anyone to know, so naturally I was curious."

"Naturally." Ron smiled at her sarcasm, but he was beginning to feel a little nervous now as well. What if she had smelled something that he really didn't want to hear about? If it was anything to do with Viktor Krum, he certainly hoped that she'd keep it to herself. But then again, that had been a long time ago, and Ron felt more certain now than ever that Hermione felt something resembling what he felt for her. After all, she had kissed him... and he'd kissed her back. He smiled a little at the thought of it. Oh, if only she felt for him a fraction of the way he felt for her right now...

"Well, if you must know... Oh, God..." Hermione wrung her hands and leaned back against the headboard with a clunk. "I... I smelled..." Her voice trailed off and Ron had to strain to hear her next words. He swallowed hard and leaned a bit towards her, waiting as patiently as he could until finally she said... "I smelled your hair."

Ron couldn't have been more shocked. He hadn't heard her right. How could he have?

"Did you say... my hair?" He said it loud enough to be sure that she had heard him correctly; that way, if she nodded or said yes, he'd have no way of being confused about it this time around.

Her quick, single nod was all Ron needed. His eyes went wide and he couldn't move. She had smelled his hair!

"You smelled my hair."

She said nothing, simply sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes focused intently on her fingers.

"You... smelled my hair!"

Hermione's head snapped up, her eyes slightly narrowed. When he had suggested this game, she had been concerned that something might come out, something embarrassing that she'd rather not tell him. But the prospect of being able to ask him anything freely had been too much to pass up. But now she didn't care about that anymore. If he was going to laugh at her, she was done playing games. But then she saw his face. Her angry eyes met his shocked ones. But there was something else... he seemed... was overjoyed the right word? Couldn't be... it was just a silly-

"It's Amortentia, Hermione! Do you know what that means? It's the strongest love potion in the world... a love potion! Anything you smell in there..." Ron's eyes widened, if possible, even more. "You smelled my hair!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course I know what Amortentia is, Ron. Honestly, I'd think you didn't know me at all. I do read you know..."

Ron chuckled a little at this.

"Oh yes, I know you read, Hermione..." He smiled at her now, and she gave up trying to be mad or irritated. She was tired of covering up for herself. Now he knew and she was just going to have to get used to it. She had found the courage to kiss him, hadn't she? She wasn't about to go on dancing around everything with him. It was about time some things got out in the open, if they were ever going to move on with... whatever it was they were going to move on with.

"Whatever. So what? I smelled your hair in a love potion. Next question." Hermione sat back now, her arms crossed over her chest.

Ron couldn't stop grinning. He knew it was her turn now so he waited for her to ask him something. He didn't have to wait long.

"Why were you so angry at the Yule Ball?" Hermione's question was much more direct than Ron's had been, and his grin immediately fell from his face and was replaced by a nervous wide-eyed expression, his skin paling. Hermione continued... "You said that you thought it was wrong of me, to be friends with an 'enemy'. But I never thought you were telling the truth. You couldn't have been angry about that. You knew I wanted Harry to win the Tournament, and you did want Viktor's autograph as I said then. So why were you so angry?" Hermione waited patiently for Ron to answer, but his skin was now rapidly turning the color of a radish.

"What kind of a question... I mean..."

He stumbled over his words, wishing he could somehow back out of this, but realizing that she had just answered a really difficult question, and if she could tell him that she had smelled his hair in a love potion, he really should be able to tell her he was jealous of Viktor Krum, right? He took a deep breath and stared down towards the foot of the bed as he softly started to explain something he had hoped would just vanish into thin air over time...

"I was jealous. He... everyone loved him, didn't they? And he was good at everything... besides saying your bloody name." Ron snarled at the thought and Hermione sighed, hoping this wasn't going to turn into an argument and deciding to ignore his comment. "And anyway," Ron's voice softened again as he continued. "I didn't know you'd be coming in with him. It was a bit of a shock to see you... well... you seemed so happy. And it wasn't..." Ron gulped. This was the hardest bit... "It wasn't me who was making you happy."

The room instantly fell into a horribly awkward silence. Ron decided that it was better to keep rambling than to sit through this, unable to even glance over at Hermione to gauge her reaction.

"And... you said... you told me to ask you to the ball first, and not as a last resort. But... I did ask you, didn't I? I mean, yeah, it was a bit lame and I pretty much turned the whole thing into a joke... that was... well it was hard! I couldn't even ask a girl I didn't know to go with me, much less my best friend." Ron shifted uncomfortably against the headboard, still staring forward. "And anyway, I guess Krum had already asked you by that point so..."

He chanced a glance at Hermione and was shocked to see that her eyes had filled with unshed tears, and she wasn't looking directly at him either.

"Oh! Damn it! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's really silly. I mean, that was three years ago, wasn't it? So it doesn't matter. None of this matters anymore. Forgive me."

Hermione's eyes jumped up to meet his at his sincere apology.

"Ron," she sniffed. "It does matter... because... I only went with Viktor because no one else asked me."

"Neville asked you, Hermione."

"Neville asked me after Viktor. And I didn't mean no one else... I meant..." Hermione trailed off and looked away again.

"I know I was a prat that night, and I'm really sorry that I ruined things for you. You were having a good time and I... I'm just sorry it happened is all."

Hermione nodded slowly and sniffed again, but her eyes had dried a bit.

"Ron, I hoped you would ask me," she said, barely above a whisper. Ron froze and listened intently as she continued. "When Viktor asked me... well... like you said, everyone liked him. All the girls wanted to go with him. And I guess it made me feel good when he asked me. Why would anyone think of me over everyone else? I'm just a plain, bookish, know-it-all who..." but Ron interrupted her.

"Plain? What are you on about?"

Hermione blushed, unable to meet Ron's eyes.

"You know what I mean, Ron. I'm not beautiful. I'm just..." but Ron interrupted her again.

"How can you say that? You can't mean that." He was truly puzzled. He thought Hermione was beautiful. How could she not see that in herself?

"Ron..."

As if it wasn't embarrassing enough telling Ron about the potion, it just seemed to keep getting worse and worse. She knew she wasn't gorgeous, at least not like Lavender and Parvati who paid more attention to their makeup and hair than they did to their exams. She was never the girly type, and she knew that her bushy hair, constant reading, and lack of makeup wasn't a good combination when it came to trying to get a date. But she hadn't ever really concerned herself with that kind of thing before. And now, thinking back on the night of the Ball, she knew that she had changed her appearance because of what was expected of her. Sure, she liked feeling pretty. It was one of the best feelings in the world, but it was just for one night.

"Hermione..." his eyes gazed into hers as she looked up at him, her eyes still watery from earlier and from the general direction of the conversation they were having. Ron hadn't planned to say the things he now felt like he had to say tonight. He wanted, more than anything, to be with Hermione. He had known that for such a long time. But he had never planned to reveal so much about his love for her in such a short period of time. But if she didn't think she was the most beautiful witch he had ever seen, he had to clear that up right now.

Hermione bit her lip, waiting for Ron to go on. A list of possible things that he could say ran through her mind. What if Ron really does think I'm pretty? But she shook that thought away immediately. Even if he does, he snogged Lavender for half of 6th year. I can't compare to her that way. Hermione's eyes narrowed at just the thought of Lavender Brown. But Ron's soft, gentle eyes finally blinked and he somehow found the courage to go on speaking.

"I think you're beautiful." Hermione took in a quick breath at his words. She hadn't heard him right... She couldn't have...

"You... you do?" She couldn't look away now. Nothing was going to ruin this.

"Of course." Ron cleared his throat. "I had no idea that you... I mean... that you didn't know I thought..." Ron looked away, his ears burning.

Hermione wiped at her eyes and brushed her hair out of her face as she let Ron's words sink in. He thought she was beautiful! All this time, and he really thought that about her? She wondered when it had started, and if he had been keeping anything else from her that she might find out tonight. She had spent so much energy and time worrying and crying over Ron Weasley, hoping that the only person she had ever loved would somehow love her in return, and now, the wish that she had hoped and dreamed would come true seemed more and more likely.

"I didn't realize..." Hermione really didn't know what else to say.

A long, awkward pause filled the room, when finally, Ron spoke again, his voice scratchy.

"You can ask me something else now. Anything."

"But I just asked you a question, about the Ball," Hermione said, puzzled.

"Yeah, I know, but... you can go again. I lost my turn."

"How did you do that?"

"You lose a turn for being an idiot. And you lose two for making someone cry, so I came pretty close on that one earlier. I'd say you get at least 1 1/2 questions before it's my go again." Ron scratched his neck and grinned slightly, lightening the mood as always with a joke. And it seemed to work. Hermione smiled up at him and settled back against the wall now, her legs still crossed Indian style, both of her knees now resting lightly against Ron's left thigh. He shivered as heat from her knees radiated through his legs, and all from such a tiny little touch.

Hermione tucked another stray piece of hair behind her ear and concentrated on a question. Ron watched her, amused, and instantly thought of someone trying to come up with the correct response to a life or death question that they weren't sure they knew the answer to.

"Okay. I have something." She bit her lip, and Ron watched, beginning to get nervous. "We never really talked about this so... I... well... Lavender."

Ron gulped and his eyes widened. He should have known this would happen...

"When I first saw you with her... I guess I was surprised."

Ron knew that Hermione was glossing over that part. She had been a bit more than surprised...

"It was like you had been hiding something from us. I mean, Harry seemed as shocked as I was, honestly. I just never really knew what... what happened between you... and her. And I'm not asking you to tell me anything you don't want to. I know we said we'd answer anything honestly, but I'm not asking you to tell me anything about your relationship..." but Ron cut her off for the third time that night.

"What relationship?" Ron felt ashamed admitting that he had snogged a girl for so long without caring about her at all.

"Well... I guess that's what I'm asking. If you didn't feel anything for her, or you weren't sure if you did..."

"I was sure I didn't." It had to be said, but that didn't make it any easier. It certainly didn't make him feel good about it.

"Then why did you go out with her?" Hermione was pleading him to answer this question, like it had been on the tip of her tongue for over a year.

"Because..." Ron sighed again, and stared forward towards the end of his bed, fixing his eyes there, knowing he wouldn't be able to look over at Hermione until this was over with. He was really starting to worry that his ears would never return to their normal color after tonight. "Look, I guess I should just tell you everything, from the beginning."

He sighed, resigned to do this, no matter how hard it was. If Hermione was overwhelmed by his answer, that was fine. He had to get it off his chest. He had been planning to properly apologize and explain himself for a long time, and she was the one asking about it after all. Maybe he'd learn something by doing this. Maybe he'd discover that she really had been as jealous as it had seemed like she might have been of Lavender Brown.

"Me and Harry were on the way back to the common room just before Christmas, sixth year, so we decided to cut through one of the tapestries to take a short cut. We ran into Ginny and Dean snogging behind it."

Hermione's eyes widened as Ron continued.

"Anyway, I wasn't especially happy to find them there. I guess I got a little too angry. Me and Gin started yelling. Harry tried to stop us from cursing each other. Then, out of nowhere, Ginny shouts that everyone had snogged someone except for me. Harry had snogged Cho... and you had snogged Krum."

"She didn't!" Hermione gasped, outraged. How could Ginny say something like that to Ron? Ginny knew how much Hermione cared for Ron. Though, when Hermione thought back on it, Ginny probably hadn't known at the time, and Hermione was very aware of how Ron's temper could affect one's judgment.

"Yeah... she did," Ron sighed. "When I came back upstairs, I wasn't angry about Ginny and Dean anymore. If someone had asked me to tell them what just happened, I probably wouldn't have even remembered that we walked in on them snogging. All I could think about was... you and Viktor Krum."

"Ron..."

"But it's okay. I shouldn't have done what I did. It's just... I was so jealous of him. If I was jealous before, it was nothing like what I felt after what Ginny said. So I... there really isn't a nice way to say this... I was hoping that by going out with Lavender... I'd... make you jealous of her."

Hermione's eyes widened. So it had been true! She had suspected, but never thought she could actually be right! As hurt as she was over what he had done, she couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach as she thought of Ron trying to make her jealous. He must have felt something for her, even back then. He wouldn't have done what he did otherwise.

"It was so mental. I was such an idiot. I knew I was hurting you, but I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to feel the way I felt when Ginny told me about you and Krum. I wanted you to know what that was like. But at the same time, I didn't even know if I could make you feel anything like that. I guess I was trying to find out. But I felt so horrid. My stomach was in knots all the time. I could barely look at you. I knew I was doing something really awful, but I couldn't stop it once I'd started it. It was so hard, trying to figure out how to undo such a huge mistake."

He stopped talking, continuing to stare forward at the wall at the foot of his bed. He blinked a few times, then looked down at his lap as he crossed his arms.

"And I can't even ask you to forgive me. I don't deserve it."

"But I do forgive you."

Ron looked up at her now in awe. How could she forgive him? But she had, just then. He could hardly believe how lucky he was that she hadn't run from the room, vowing to never speak to him again.

"It worked, you know."

"What did?" he asked, confused.

"You made me jealous." Hermione blushed, but didn't look away from him.

"I thought maybe... I mean... I wondered," Ron said as a small sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You really did hurt me, Ron. I could hardly concentrate in class. I was so angry with you. But I also felt like I had just... lost my chance... or that you cared for me even less than I thought you did before, as my friend I mean." Hermione blushed even harder.

"And you know what's funny? Remember when you sat down at the table and told everyone you were going to Slughorn's party with McLaggen? Somehow, even after everything I had done to you, that one sentence from you caused me to forget everything else but you and him, probably snogging under some mistletoe and drinking butterbeers. I wanted to run from the table, find McLaggen, and pound him into the ground."

Hermione couldn't help but grin a little at Ron's words. She remembered how much she had wanted to hurt him for hurting her, and how she had hoped that by talking about McLaggen at the table, she could figure out if Ron could maybe, possibly, feel a little something for her, something that could help Hermione justify his reasons for snogging Lavender. And now, knowing what she did about Ginny's accidental confession of her and Krum's one Christmas kiss three and a half years ago, she knew that what she had hoped for really had been true, even then.

"Ron... I feel really foolish. I could have told you how I was feeling..."

"No, Hermione. It's completely my fault. You invited me to Slughorn's party, remember? I just ditched you and never gave you any explanation."

"If you had said something, you would have found out that I didn't snog anybody. Viktor kissed me after the Ball, a kiss which I didn't even want to reciprocate. I told Viktor I would be his friend, but that I wasn't interested in anything else."

"You did?" Ron's voice cracked and Hermione tried to keep from grinning.

"Yes. I told you over and over that all he ever was to me was a friend."

"Well..." Ron scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how to proceed. Hermione quickly thought of a way out of this for him...

"Your turn."

"Huh?" Ron's puzzled eyes met her warm ones.

"To ask me something."

"Oh!" Ron gave her a half-smile as they fell into a much more comfortable silence than before while Ron tried to think of something to ask her.

He knew he could probably think of something really good, something she was probably nervous to discuss, but he decided that it was worth it to forfeit his turn in favor of something lighter, something that could make them laugh to break the tension of the conversation thus far. And if anyone could turn an awkward situation into a joke, it was Ron.

"What did you think when you first saw Grawp?"

Hermione had clearly not been expecting a question like this.

"Grawp?"

"Yeah. I know when I saw him, my first though was, 'bloody hell Hagrid, you've really gone over the edge with this one.'"

"Ron!" Hermione tried to hold back her giggles. "I was excited, honestly. I mean, sure it was a bit scary, and against all sorts of school rules."

Ron nodded enthusiastically, his eyes widening in fake agreement. Hermione leaned forward and punched his upper arm playfully.

"Hey!" Ron rubbed at the spot, faking injury.

"Oh, stop it. You're behaving just like Malfoy." Hermione really giggled now at Ron's appalled reaction. But he suddenly realized the incident she was referring to and began to laugh, completely forgetting his arm.

"Buckbeak really was brilliant that day."

Hermione smiled.

"So, you were telling me what you thought of Grawp," Ron continued.

"Right. Well... it was just such a rare opportunity to get to see and interact with a giant."

Ron snorted.

"Interact? More like fear being pummeled to death."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I know it wasn't wise what Hagrid did, but it was interesting. And I understand why he did it. He just wanted to rescue Grawp, to give him a better life." Hermione shivered a bit and rubbed her bare feet with her hands, then tucked them under her body to warm them.

"Are you cold? It's always a bit drafty in here. You can get under the blanket if you want to. It's clean, I promise." Ron grinned at her and she blushed as she scooted wordlessly around so her back was against the headboard again. She reached behind her for Ron's pillow and he moved away from the headboard to allow her to adjust what she needed to be more comfortable. She propped the pillow up behind her, leaving enough of the pillow out from behind her on her right so that Ron could lean against it too. Then she lifted her legs and pulled the blanket out from under her, sliding her legs under it until she was sitting with her legs completely straight in front of her, the blanket pulled up to her waist.

Ron finally leaned back against his half of the pillow, his legs still on top of the blanket. Hermione wished he had come under with her, but as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she had to look away from him, her cheeks burning, no doubt turning very pink.

"So, it's your turn now," Ron said in a scratchy sort of voice. He cleared his throat and waited patiently for Hermione to think of something. This time, it took her quite a bit longer than before. Ron thought she must either really be trying to come up with a good one or she couldn't think of anything important that she really needed to know that he hadn't told her about already. Ron started to run down the list of things he had meant to someday tell her, embarrassing things or things that he had done, ways he had hurt her in the past.

Hermione, meanwhile, wasn't thinking especially hard about her question just yet. She could hear and feel Ron breathing beside her. The lamp light was so dim that dark shadows hovered in every corner of the room and in every curve and dip in the blanket and against Ron's face. A light rain started to patter against the window, creating a gentle and soothing atmosphere and adding much needed sound to the ambiance, easing the awkwardness and nervousness that she felt at being so close to Ron. She was shivering still, but not from the cold this time. The intense feelings that she had always held in her heart for Ron were now fairly out in the open, and here she was, in his bed able to ask him anything she wanted. It was brilliant.

Hermione scooted down a bit lower in the bed. She could smell Ron all over everything around her. She fought the urge to take a deep breath, inhaling his beautiful scent. It was embarrassing even sitting there thinking about it, but she felt so comforted and safe surrounded by all these things that belonged to him, and more than anything, surrounded by him. She realized suddenly that she would have to go sometime... wouldn't she? Ron would get tired and so would she, and he'd have to ask her to leave. She couldn't really imagine him asking her that... but he would have to, wouldn't he? Maybe if she just fell asleep in his bed without him realizing it, he wouldn't want to wake her and he'd just fall asleep next to her...

Was it really mischievous to be planning out a sleep over in Ron's room without his knowledge? Probably. But that didn't stop her from doing it, and it certainly didn't stop her from knowing that she would do it if it came to it. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep anywhere else tonight, and as weird as it seemed to be so attached to him now that she knew she wouldn't sleep a wink without being in his bed, she also felt overwhelmingly happy knowing that it really was true. She wondered if maybe, just maybe, Ron was thinking about something similar, plotting how he was going to fall asleep next to her and hope she didn't move, or hoping that she'd fall asleep and he would be able to pass off falling asleep beside her...

Finally, Hermione realized how long she had been sitting in silence thinking when she looked over at Ron and saw his eyelids already starting to droop. He glanced over at her and smiled, and she felt butterflies fluttering around in her stomach again. She wondered briefly what time it was, not really caring enough to find out, and then, remembering the game, looked away from Ron so she could concentrate on her next question.

After a few moments, Ron interrupted her thoughts.

"You still awake?" he said in a very sleepy voice.

Hermione smiled.

"Sorry, I was thinking. I... well... I've got something..."

"Okay." He turned to face her more fully, looking down at her. Hermione took a deep breath, then began...

"When you found Harry in the woods and... and you destroyed the locket..."

Ron looked away from Hermione nervously. He suddenly really wished he had never suggested this game. No matter how wonderful it had been to really get to talk to her and have a lot of his hopes confirmed, it was just too painful to even think of telling her about that night, and he knew what she was about to ask him before she even asked. There was nothing else it could be...

"I know something happened to you out there, Ron. But neither of you would talk about it. What happened?" Hermione looked straight at Ron, waiting for him to answer.

"Hermione..." he practically moaned, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Hermione felt a flutter at the way he said her name. She pushed those thoughts away though. It wasn't appropriate to thinking like that right now... was it? Not when things had turned so serious... She shuttered and waited for him to go on, hoping he would look up at her when he spoke next. He didn't.

"I know I've got to answer you, and you know I wouldn't lie to you so... I'm kind of stuck. So... I just want to... are you sure? You sure you want to ask me this?" Now he looked up at Hermione slowly. Maybe he was hoping that she would feel sorry for him and give up the question, but he knew deep down that if anything, he had just made her even more curious. She'd have to know now, and really, someday, he knew he would tell her. He just hadn't expected that day to come so soon.

Hermione nodded very slightly and very slowly. She felt bad for having to know, but all the same, she just had to know. What could it have been? What was so awful that he could barely speak of it and probably would rather her have asked him anything else in the world?

Ron sighed, looked away from Hermione for a moment, getting lost in his thoughts. Finally he returned his gaze back to her, staring at a spot just to the right of her so he didn't have to look directly into her eyes while he spoke these next words.

"I saw you..." He swallowed, shifted his body on top of his blanket, and continued. "You and Harry."

"Me and Harry?" Hermione tried to read his expression, but it was difficult... He nodded.

"You were dancing... you and Harry together. And... you were laughing at me. You said... you said that I... that I was a failure and that... that you did - and would - always prefer..." Ron sighed. This was probably the hardest thing he had ever had to say.

Hermione's eyes never moved from his face. Ron picked at the blanket he was sitting on top of and looked down at his hands as he distracted his focus away from his thoughts. He finally, slowly continued...

"You preferred Harry to me, cared more for him than you ever would for me because I was nothing to you."

Hermione gasped audibly at his words, but Ron didn't look at her. He just continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You were together, you and Harry. You... you didn't care about me... not how things had been... not how I wished... how I hoped you... you would someday. It was like... everything I wanted was gone, I was standing alone and I was so angry. It was like I was in a trance, under a spell of some kind, nothing I've ever felt before... For a moment, I could have done what he was whispering in my ear, could have cursed Harry..." Ron's eyes started to water and he felt his stomach getting sick. He closed his eyes to the pain of remembering that night as Hermione reached gently out to touch the back of his hand. He turned his hand over immediately so that their palms were touching, fingers dancing over each other's. After a moment, he opened his eyes and chanced a glance at Hermione. Her eyes were filled with tears for the second time that night, but she was looking straight back at him.

"But Hermione," Ron said quickly, noticing how much this was upsetting her. He moved a bit closer to her, his face only about a foot away now. "It was the locket telling me those things. I don't believe that. I really don't. I know you don't hate me."

Hermione gazed up at him, hoping that he was telling her the truth. If she had made him feel that way... she felt sick thinking of it.

"Don't be upset. I didn't want to tell you this because I knew it would upset you, and really, everything is fine now. It was fine right away that night, right after I saw you again, even though you were pretty angry with me..." Ron smiled. "For a good reason, I know," he added quickly.

Hermione looked away from him again. She really didn't want to get into that tonight. She had moved past it anyway. She knew he was sorry, so sorry even that he had taken every moment they were alone together from then on as another chance to apologize for leaving them that night in the woods.

"I know I've said it a hundred times, but I really am so sorry about-"

"Ron, I've told you. You don't have to apologize anymore. I forgave you a long time ago. I know that locket made you do things you wouldn't have done otherwise. I know you felt anxious and scared and I know that you were worried that we were wasting time. I felt it too."

"But you didn't leave..."

"It's okay. I don't need you to explain again. I don't need you to feel bad anymore for what you did. It was a mistake." Hermione smiled up at him now, hoping it would reassure him. It seemed to. He smiled back.

"Well, I suppose I don't have anything else to say about the locket then. Really, I don't have anything left to tell you at all. I think you managed to ask every embarrassing or difficult question that I could possibly answer."

Hermione blushed and looked away.

"Sorry," she said in a tiny voice.

"No, it's really a good thing. At least now there's nothing left for you to find out about. And you're still here!" Ron raised his arms up in triumph and Hermione giggled.

"Where else would I want to be?" She quickly realized what she had said, but she didn't really care now. Ron smiled so wide at her words that she thought his face might crack.

His eyes locked tightly with hers and the butterflies that had settled a while ago in her stomach began to rapidly resume their fluttering. After a long moment, Ron looked away. Hermione had a strange feeling that he was working up the courage for something. Her heart began to beat harder in her chest in anticipation.

Suddenly, in one quick motion, Ron tucked his legs up, pulled his blanket out from under him, and slid his legs under until he was lying back against the pillow next to Hermione. He shifted down against the headboard until his head was level with hers, most of his stomach now under the blanket with her.

Hermione realized she had stopped breathing. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. She was having a dream. She had fallen asleep in Ron's bed and now she was dreaming all this up. It just couldn't be real! But it was real. Hermione was rushed back to the present, to Ron's bed, and to his hair gently brushing her cheek as he adjusted his head on the pillow they were sharing.

"Is this okay?" he asked her, so softly that she was unsure if he had really spoken at all. But she found herself nodding her reply, not trusting her voice.

Ron wasn't quite touching her, but his left arm and leg were dangerously close, and she could sense that he was probably about to fall off the edge of the bed, trying not to touch her. She wanted more than anything at that moment for Ron to be able to read her thoughts and for her to be able to read his. If he wanted this, well, she knew she did. This was exactly what she had wanted for so long.

"Ron, you must be falling off the edge of the bed." Hermione surprised herself when she spoke. She hadn't thought her voice was going to be operational for the rest of the night.

Ron chuckled.

"'M okay." His sleepy eyes were drooping even more, making him look almost drunk in the faint lamp light. Hermione tried to hide her grin as he let his head sink all the way into the pillow. A long moment passed and Hermione was almost sure that Ron was asleep, but then he started to shift under the blanket until his left leg really was touching her right one. But when he suddenly realized how close they were, his eyes shot open and he adjusted under the blanket, moving a bit away from her.

"Ron, do you want me to go?" Hermione whispered. Ron turned ever so slightly towards her. She thought that she could see the deep red blush from earlier returning to his face and ears.

"No," he said, not quite looking at her.

"I don't want to go either," Hermione whispered. Ron turned over more on his side, which put him farther away from Hermione, but now he could look right at her. She felt shivers up her back and down her legs, and she realized she was shaking slightly. She tried to hold her breath, hoping Ron wouldn't notice. But she suddenly noticed that he was shaking too, his body twitching and his teeth almost chattering as his eyes fixed on hers.

Ron knew what he was about to do, and he had no idea how he was going to muster the courage to do it... but he was going to. He had decided that now. It was final.

Hermione thought she should say something, but she had no idea how or what to say. And as Ron continued to stare at her, she felt like all the words she had ever learned had just escaped her, and come tomorrow, she'd have to relearn English from the very start.

After what seemed like hours, Ron slowly inched towards her, and she felt herself moving towards him as well. It was hard, sliding across a pillow, and she knew it must look horribly awkward to watch them both slowly tilt their heads in odd positions so their bodies never touched but... their lips finally did.

Hermione's eyes shut tight, the butterflies in her stomach doing a gig. Her body seemed to tingle all the way from her head to her toes. She remembered this feeling from their first kiss.

Ron felt quite the same way, his skin tingling all the way to his toes. He moved his lips against hers a little, remembering their first kiss in the Room of Requirement, and focusing everything he had on recreating that moment now. He slowly moved his hand up to cup her cheek and she copied his movement, her hand shaking a little as her fingers ran along his jaw and neck.

The rain outside the window began to pound harder, which they were both grateful for as their hearts were beating so loudly that they were sure the other would be able to hear. The kiss continued, soft and gentle, but so perfect, with no fear or desperation mixed in this time. It was only them. They were the only two people in the world right now. That's exactly how it felt until their lips finally parted, only moving away because their lungs needed air.

They both breathed heavily, their eyes still mostly shut, Hermione's hand now resting on the back of Ron's neck and his hand now tangled in her hair. Ron rested his forehead against hers and suddenly, Hermione leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. Ron's eyes popped open and a grin slowly made its way across his face as Hermione moved her hand down from behind his neck to slide across his ribs and hold his side.

Ron shifted under her a little, moving to lie on his back and snaking his arm under her so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Hermione sat up a bit at his movement, and Ron was terrified that she was going to move away or suggest that maybe this wasn't such a good idea and she should probably head back down to Ginny's room now. But as soon as Ron's arm stretched out, Hermione settled back down, her head on his shoulder and her arm across his body, holding a bit of his torn Chudley Cannon's shirt in her fist. Ron tentatively wrapped his left arm around her, resting his hand on the middle of her back. There they stayed for a long time, their hearts pounding in their chests. Ron could feel Hermione's heart beating against his side where her whole body was tightly pressed and he was sure she could feel his too. It was strangely comforting, feeling her heartbeat, hearing it like it was almost coming from inside his own body.

Hermione's eyes were closed and her breathing slowly began to deepen enough to make Ron wonder if she had fallen asleep. He reached his right hand out to his side, feeling for the nob on the front of his lantern and turning it, darkening the room so only the outside light radiated up from the ground floor of the house.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered as he returned his right arm to the edge of the bed, nearly off the side. Feeling unusually brave, he turned his head slightly and placed a long kiss on the top of her head through her thick hair. He attempted to remain there after the kiss, but breathing in was difficult as stray strands of her bushy hair tickled his nose each time. He chuckled and moved back just enough so that he could breathe properly.

"Goodnight, Ron," she whispered in return, and Ron could hear the smile in her voice.

He pulled the blanket up a bit around them, then rested his right hand on Hermione's arm, gently moving his fingers across her skin. She adjusted her arm slightly on his chest as his fingers tickled her skin.

As Ron's eyes finally shut, the last thought that ran through his head was I love you, and he spent his final conscious moments wondering if he had actually just spoken out loud.