Title: A Lack of Space

Author: Aelan Greenleaf

Category: Romance, Humor

Rating: 15, K+

Summary: "Hermione, you're in my space!" "This is a cave, Ronald, there isn't much space to begin with!" - While searching for Horcruxes during the Second War, space becomes a premium.

A Lack of Space

"Hermione."

She groaned, and rolled over as much as she could onto her side, facing him. "What, Ron?" she asked, clearly and visibly annoyed. Well, to be honest, everything was clear from the four inches that separated their faces.

There was a strange half-grin on his face, as if he were slightly inebriated and didn't quite know what to feel. "Hermione, you're in my space! This section is obviously mine, and I'd would like it very much if you could stay on your side."

Her eyes glowed with exasperation. "This is a cave, Ronald, there isn't much space to begin with!" She shot him daggers with her eyes. "And this is obviously on my side." She flipped onto her back and looked up to the stone ceiling, drooping low above them.

"Fine." he muttered, and promptly dropped his arm onto her stomach and pushed his leg up onto hers. "Now we both have the same amount of space."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, and she was glad that he wasn't looking at her anymore, for the red on her face had to be a beacon in the dark. "What are you doing?"

"Resting." he answered simply, sprawled out in the tiny area that they had.

"Well, yes, I can see that, you git!" she said sarcastically. "Get your gangly limbs off of me!"

His voice took on a hurt tone, but she knew he wasn't really offended. "Gangly? Who are you calling gangly?"

"You, you idiot! Get off of me!" However, even a she spoke, a strange and irksome voice at the back of her mind whispered to her that perhaps she would like him to stay that way, hmm?

Vehemently now, she threw his hand off her chest and attempted to move his leg; however, in the cramped quarters, she found that moving into such a position would be nothing less than intimate. She settled for the small victory of the arm.

"Well," he grumbled, "that's easy for you to say. You have all the room."

"Ronald, I'm about half your size. Can't you just let me have my space?"

"Nope." he said, simply, through an undercurrent ran through his words, heavy in the closeness of their shelter. There was something other than amusement in his voice now.

"Look, Ron-"

"Hermione-" He turned over, and found himself looking directly into her eyes.

A silence filled with questions and an unbelievable tension quietly came between them. Ron moved his leg away.

Minutes ticked away, but they still just kept staring, as if only really seeing each other for the first time. It was like noticing that someone had glasses, when really they had been there all along. That freckle under his left eye, the dimple hidden on her right cheek, little curiosities that they had never taken the time to see before. The mirth left the moment, and it all became so serious, so fast.

He reached out his hand to her, and they met in the middle, two inches in the center.

"Ron..."

"I know, 'Mione."

She sighed. "Do you think we should tell Harry?"

At this, he chuckled, and she smiled to see him laugh. "Hermione, I'm pretty sure he's known all along. Probably before we knew. I mean, he's a complete dunce when it comes to him and girls, but with us-"

She finished for him. "-with us, he's always known, hasn't he?"

Ron nodded, and clutched her hand a little tighter. These were the moments he treasured; the moments where all thoughts of war and Horcruxes and V-Voldemort left his mind, replacing them with sweet thoughts of the girl he loved to love. Girl? Were they really still children anymore? He didn't know, and he didn't care to know the answer.

There were footsteps approaching from the outside night, and they knew it was Harry, returning from his solitudes. It was true, they had each other, but Harry had had to leave the one he loved behind. For this, Hermione pitied him, silently and wisely.

"I love you, you know that, right?" said Ron, with a bit of worry in his tones.

Hermione grinned. "You know just how to make something un-romantic, Ron." Her look sobered, and her smile faded a little. "I know, and I love you too."

A head of black hair popped in from the entrance, and a shape dropped down between them, crushing Ron and Hermione's adjacent sides. Two exclamations sounded out; the Boy-Who-Lived laughed as he squished in between his friends.

"Are we comfortable now?" he asked, chuckling.

"I think you shattered my ribcage." moaned Ron, though he was grinning too.

Hermione smiled, though the pain came through, knowing that such happiness could not last. After all, the War was still going, and the fighters kept fighting, as those who battled fell to the bloody fields of a secret war. A war that would, it seemed more and more with every passing day, would take away everything and everyone she had ever fought to save.

However, for the time being, she was content to lie, squished between a rock face and her best friends, enjoying the simplicity of life and the absolute lack of space.