No R.L.D. (random Lucius death) here. Spoilers, though
Because I promised non-insane and more serious post-DH fanfiction, and because
cuteej4requested it, here is a little drabble I wrote. The ending gave me some trouble, and for some reason I went with a rather odd viewpoint (the second-person, present tense) that I haven't done much with before.
Spoilers: YES!! DO NOT READ IF FOR WHATEVER REASON YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED DH AND DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED!!!
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG?
Notes: cuteej4 helped with the title, too, because otherwise it would be titled something like "Not having anything to do with Lucius Malfoy." And again, since I seem to be doing this finally, the characters are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling and etc. and I am just enjoying them. No one paid me to write this.
Things change, whether you want them to or not. Events happen so quickly and sometimes you're left wondering what happened to the gawky boy with too-big feet and a smudge on his nose. Wondering when he became a man who, almost, always knows what to do. Though at the moment, you notice, he still seems like the boy, uncertain, and terribly upset. You should say something, but there doesn't seem to be words for this, and so you reach out, and touch his arm, and he jumps, and turns to look at you. He smiles, only slightly, his clear blue eyes damp.
"Ron," you say. And he nods, seeming to understand, and the both of you leave the others, if only for a moment. You walk in silence for awhile, hands barely touching, not because either of you are afraid to touch the other, but because it just doesn't seem like the time. "Are you . . . do you want to talk about it?" you ask, finally, turning to him. He shakes his head. His eyes still shine with unshed tears.
"Not about . . ." he begins, then stops, and stands there, awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands. You take them in yours, and look up at him. He smiles but there's something in his smile, and you're not sure if it has anything to do with his brother's death.
"Ron," you say again, slightly alarmed. "What is it?"
"Hermione, I have to tell you . . . something." he says. You wait. You hope . . . hope he doesn't have some mad idea of leaving you. How could he? "When I came back . . . when I rescued Harry and destroyed the Horcrux . . ."
He won't want you to say anything, would he? So you don't, giving him time to say whatever it is he needs to say.
"I just want you to know I love you," he says, very quickly, and you smile, slightly. Though he isn't finished. You can tell he hasn't finished telling you. "I've always loved you . . . well, not always, but for a long time. But sometimes . . . sometimes it seemed like maybe you fancied Harry more than me." You open your mouth, to tell him no, never, but he shakes his head, and goes on. "I know it isn't true. I knew even then, but . . . after I left . . . the two of you were together, alone, and I had gone and deserted the both of you . . . Hermione, don't say anything. I told you, I knew I was wrong, but knowing something isn't true and being afraid it is are two different things, and I have to tell you all of this before . . . before we get any further with this. With us, I mean. Our relationship." So you wait, even though he's taking his time about getting to the point. Because he's Ron, and this can't be easy for him. You squeeze his hands tight in yours, and he gives you a weak smile.
"But after I came back . . . after Harry'd opened the locket . . . you remember what happened when you tried to destroy the Cup?" You nod. You'd never forget, it had been one of the most truly horrifying experiences in your life. Not the worst, not the saddest, but it had been awful. "This was worse," Ron said. "It was you . . . you and Harry, and you said . . . not just you, but Harry . . . only it wasn't really you and Harry. It was . . . it was everything I had ever thought and everything I had ever feared, and hadn't even admitted to myself I had thought. Some of it I probably hadn't even realized I . . . but when you said it. . . when that thing that had your face, when you said . . . Hermione, I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I was strong enough. I . . ." and now, now he has said everything he needed to say. Now his tears finally fall, and you kiss him. He puts his arms around you, and you want to tell him . . . everything. How much you love him and how brave and wonderful he really is, and how you've never, ever, loved anyone other than him, but at the moment, it seems the best thing to do is to kiss him. There would be time, plenty of time, later, for talk.
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Quite a bit more serious than the one before it, even though I didn't actually kill anyone off in this one.
cuteej4requested it, here is a little drabble I wrote. The ending gave me some trouble, and for some reason I went with a rather odd viewpoint (the second-person, present tense) that I haven't done much with before.
Spoilers: YES!! DO NOT READ IF FOR WHATEVER REASON YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED DH AND DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED!!!
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG?
Notes: cuteej4 helped with the title, too, because otherwise it would be titled something like "Not having anything to do with Lucius Malfoy." And again, since I seem to be doing this finally, the characters are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling and etc. and I am just enjoying them. No one paid me to write this.
Things change, whether you want them to or not. Events happen so quickly and sometimes you're left wondering what happened to the gawky boy with too-big feet and a smudge on his nose. Wondering when he became a man who, almost, always knows what to do. Though at the moment, you notice, he still seems like the boy, uncertain, and terribly upset. You should say something, but there doesn't seem to be words for this, and so you reach out, and touch his arm, and he jumps, and turns to look at you. He smiles, only slightly, his clear blue eyes damp.
"Ron," you say. And he nods, seeming to understand, and the both of you leave the others, if only for a moment. You walk in silence for awhile, hands barely touching, not because either of you are afraid to touch the other, but because it just doesn't seem like the time. "Are you . . . do you want to talk about it?" you ask, finally, turning to him. He shakes his head. His eyes still shine with unshed tears.
"Not about . . ." he begins, then stops, and stands there, awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands. You take them in yours, and look up at him. He smiles but there's something in his smile, and you're not sure if it has anything to do with his brother's death.
"Ron," you say again, slightly alarmed. "What is it?"
"Hermione, I have to tell you . . . something." he says. You wait. You hope . . . hope he doesn't have some mad idea of leaving you. How could he? "When I came back . . . when I rescued Harry and destroyed the Horcrux . . ."
He won't want you to say anything, would he? So you don't, giving him time to say whatever it is he needs to say.
"I just want you to know I love you," he says, very quickly, and you smile, slightly. Though he isn't finished. You can tell he hasn't finished telling you. "I've always loved you . . . well, not always, but for a long time. But sometimes . . . sometimes it seemed like maybe you fancied Harry more than me." You open your mouth, to tell him no, never, but he shakes his head, and goes on. "I know it isn't true. I knew even then, but . . . after I left . . . the two of you were together, alone, and I had gone and deserted the both of you . . . Hermione, don't say anything. I told you, I knew I was wrong, but knowing something isn't true and being afraid it is are two different things, and I have to tell you all of this before . . . before we get any further with this. With us, I mean. Our relationship." So you wait, even though he's taking his time about getting to the point. Because he's Ron, and this can't be easy for him. You squeeze his hands tight in yours, and he gives you a weak smile.
"But after I came back . . . after Harry'd opened the locket . . . you remember what happened when you tried to destroy the Cup?" You nod. You'd never forget, it had been one of the most truly horrifying experiences in your life. Not the worst, not the saddest, but it had been awful. "This was worse," Ron said. "It was you . . . you and Harry, and you said . . . not just you, but Harry . . . only it wasn't really you and Harry. It was . . . it was everything I had ever thought and everything I had ever feared, and hadn't even admitted to myself I had thought. Some of it I probably hadn't even realized I . . . but when you said it. . . when that thing that had your face, when you said . . . Hermione, I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I was strong enough. I . . ." and now, now he has said everything he needed to say. Now his tears finally fall, and you kiss him. He puts his arms around you, and you want to tell him . . . everything. How much you love him and how brave and wonderful he really is, and how you've never, ever, loved anyone other than him, but at the moment, it seems the best thing to do is to kiss him. There would be time, plenty of time, later, for talk.
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Quite a bit more serious than the one before it, even though I didn't actually kill anyone off in this one.