Fanfic: Trinkets - Part One: Packing
Title: Trinkets - Part One: Packing
Rating: PG13
Words: 1,433
Challenge: Lavender Brown, Ron's bedroom
Summary: During the various stages of moving out, Ron and Hermione find some old trinkets.
Warnings (if applicable): If fluff is something to be warned of, then that. Also, ogling.
Notes: For the Ron/Hermione Reunion at rhr_smutfest. I don't think I can call this a multi-chapter, but rather a series of three linked one-shots. This is the first one that I began to write, and it was actually before the reunion was even announced--but then I saw the prompts and had an idea. Thanks a lot to tmblue for being a great beta!!
***
‘What do we have here?’ Hermione asked, more to herself, as she bent over to pick something up off the floor.
Ron stared after her, smiling. He remembered the first time he caught himself doing that after they had gotten together a year ago, relishing the fact that he was now able to ogle at her like that without feeling pervy; he was looking at his girlfriend’s backside, not at his best friend that he thought he had no chance with. It was more legitimate.
Now they were here, in his old bedroom at The Burrow, packing the last of his belongings before moving in together. Well... with Harry. Harry loved The Burrow, but he felt overly guilty because the Weasleys would flat-out refuse to let him pay for anything. He also knew that even though Ron loved The Burrow, too, he was craving his own space after a rough year of trying to be there for everyone. Number 12 Grimmauld Place was full of bitter memories... but it was also an available, roomy, rent-free place. With Ron and Hermione on board, Harry had finally decided that it was their best option, at least for a while.
So, all in all, it was nothing like Ron’s idea of him and Hermione moving in together, but it was a start. And he knew his younger self wouldn’t even have counted on that happening in a million years.
Hermione finally straightened up, holding something and frowning as she turned it around in her fingers. The object glinted gold when it caught a ray of sun from the window, and Ron paled in recognition. Why hadn’t he thrown that thing away?
He watched her looking at the necklace, ready to flinch, apologise and take whatever rant she was about to dive into, but she just looked up at him with raised eyebrows and said, ‘My Sweetheart?’
Hermione was smirking. He relaxed.
‘Thankfully you had the sense to never wear this in my presence. It’s such a big turn off.’
‘Men wearing jewellery? You’re kidding me.’
‘No, actually; a person wearing a leash,’ she replied, walking up to where he sat on the bed and dropping the cheap necklace into his hand. Ron dumped it without ceremony into the box of items that he would be getting rid of.
‘You’ll never put me on a leash, then?’ he teased.
‘I don’t think I’ll have to. I have complete faith in you, Won Won.’
He grunted. ‘What did you have to say that for? You’re ruining the mood!’
‘What mood? We’re just sorting out your room, I believe.’
Hermione stood a few paces in front of him, hands on hips, still looking amused. Ron was tempted to forgo the packing business for a while and get down to something else, but he knew that was impossible with his mum poking in every half hour to see if they had changed their minds about moving out yet.
'What did you tell her when she asked if you liked it?'
Ron snorted.
'I lied, of course. Said it was very nice, but I probably wouldn't have any chance to wear it.'
'And she believed you?' Hermione asked, incredulously.
'I think that, like with most things in our... er, relationship, she had to make herself believe it. Otherwise I don't get why she didn't ditch me sooner.'
'What did you get her?'
Ron looked away without replying.
'You didn’t get her anything for Christmas? Ron!'
'I didn't know we were doing that yet! We'd been together for... what? A month?' Ron rubbed the back of his neck. 'I did feel bad when I got her present, so I snatched some of mum's fudge, wrapped it, and sent it to her. She told me she didn't eat that kind of stuff because it gave her acne.'
'You were a terrible boyfriend.' Hermione laughed, shaking her head.
'You don't seem very upset about that...'
'Well, you're not a terrible boyfriend to me,' she clarified, 'and I'm very sorry for Lavender, really. But I mean, you were never actually committed, were you? All that time I thought, what if Lavender is your type? What if you become really invested in that relationship? What if you fell in love with her?' Hermione cleared her throat, all traces of amusement gone. 'Those were the things that hurt the most to think about.'
Ron felt like a petty kind of fungus. At the same time, it was exactly the same feelings he'd had when thinking about Hermione and Krum. What if he was her type? What if he treated her better than Ron ever had? What if she loved him?
'I didn't,' he said. 'I didn't love Lavender. I never thought she'd take our relationship that seriously... Blimey, I didn't even think we'd be in a relationship when she-we... I kissed her because I was angry and I thought you didn't care. Or I wanted to see if you did. I thought maybe you were inviting me to the party as friends, after all. When I saw you did care... it was-'
'Too late,' Hermione finished for him. It sounded so stupid now, and yet she could understand his reasoning. She'd done the same. Twice.
'But why... What happened? One day I was convinced we were going together to Slughorn's party, and the next you were treating me as if you hated me. Did I do something?'
'No! I mean, yes, but not at the time. Ginny,' he explained, standing up. 'She let it slip that you'd... snogged Krum.'
'What?! What did she do that for?' Hermione squeaked. Ginny was the only person she'd trusted enough to talk about it, and Hermione had made her promise she wouldn't tell either of the boys.
Ron told her about how he and Harry had found Ginny snogging the daylights out of Dean.
'She was under the impression that I was jealous because all of you had already kissed someone.'
'Oh no...' It was clearer now: Ron had had a double motive for his very public exhibitions of tongue-handling.
'I thought you would have told us if something like that happened, even if I knew it would have driven me mental anyway. And after you'd always insisted you weren't his girlfriend-well, I didn't want to go to that party with you, knowing you were thinking of someone else...'
Hermione smiled, relief and a sense of finally finding a missing puzzle piece spreading through her. She had spent months overanalysing everything that had happened between the Herbology class when she had invited him to that party and the morning she had woken up to his cold-shoulder treatment, hoping to find a clue in something she might have said or done.
'We did kiss, Ron. But we were never together. It was a one-time thing.'
Not that Viktor hadn't tried enough to make her like him, Hermione thought. She had been really flattered, ecstatic, that he'd wanted to go with her to the Ball. She'd kissed him back at the end of the night to see if she felt something for him, too. It had been nice, but that was it. After that, she could barely meet his eyes. How could she tell him she didn't reciprocate his feelings? The second task had made her feel even worse. Harry had even told her in private that Viktor had inquired about the nature of his relationship with Hermione, and she'd felt like laughing. He'd definitely been jealous of the wrong friend.
Ron put his arms tentatively around her, pulling her back to the present.
'I didn't hate you,' he said, softly. 'I'm sorry.'
Hermione relaxed into him and smiled against his chest.
'I might have hated you just the teensiest bit. But I'm sorry, too.'
Ron’s chest vibrated with laughter. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. It was the best part of kissing Ron, that she had to reach for him as if she was reaching for the most interesting book on the highest shelf.
It was true: there were times when Hermione had felt like she hated Ron. Their relationship, prior to actually getting together, was spattered with painful memories. So much had happened, though, that those memories seemed like they belonged to another lifetime. She’d never truly hated him, and neither had he. In the light of everything they had lived through together, of the life they were starting to build together, the memories didn’t hurt anymore.
'Let's finish packing, shall we?' Hermione said at last, squeezing Ron’s hand. ‘We have a move to get on with.’
Rating: PG13
Words: 1,433
Challenge: Lavender Brown, Ron's bedroom
Summary: During the various stages of moving out, Ron and Hermione find some old trinkets.
Warnings (if applicable): If fluff is something to be warned of, then that. Also, ogling.
Notes: For the Ron/Hermione Reunion at rhr_smutfest. I don't think I can call this a multi-chapter, but rather a series of three linked one-shots. This is the first one that I began to write, and it was actually before the reunion was even announced--but then I saw the prompts and had an idea. Thanks a lot to tmblue for being a great beta!!
***
‘What do we have here?’ Hermione asked, more to herself, as she bent over to pick something up off the floor.
Ron stared after her, smiling. He remembered the first time he caught himself doing that after they had gotten together a year ago, relishing the fact that he was now able to ogle at her like that without feeling pervy; he was looking at his girlfriend’s backside, not at his best friend that he thought he had no chance with. It was more legitimate.
Now they were here, in his old bedroom at The Burrow, packing the last of his belongings before moving in together. Well... with Harry. Harry loved The Burrow, but he felt overly guilty because the Weasleys would flat-out refuse to let him pay for anything. He also knew that even though Ron loved The Burrow, too, he was craving his own space after a rough year of trying to be there for everyone. Number 12 Grimmauld Place was full of bitter memories... but it was also an available, roomy, rent-free place. With Ron and Hermione on board, Harry had finally decided that it was their best option, at least for a while.
So, all in all, it was nothing like Ron’s idea of him and Hermione moving in together, but it was a start. And he knew his younger self wouldn’t even have counted on that happening in a million years.
Hermione finally straightened up, holding something and frowning as she turned it around in her fingers. The object glinted gold when it caught a ray of sun from the window, and Ron paled in recognition. Why hadn’t he thrown that thing away?
He watched her looking at the necklace, ready to flinch, apologise and take whatever rant she was about to dive into, but she just looked up at him with raised eyebrows and said, ‘My Sweetheart?’
Hermione was smirking. He relaxed.
‘Thankfully you had the sense to never wear this in my presence. It’s such a big turn off.’
‘Men wearing jewellery? You’re kidding me.’
‘No, actually; a person wearing a leash,’ she replied, walking up to where he sat on the bed and dropping the cheap necklace into his hand. Ron dumped it without ceremony into the box of items that he would be getting rid of.
‘You’ll never put me on a leash, then?’ he teased.
‘I don’t think I’ll have to. I have complete faith in you, Won Won.’
He grunted. ‘What did you have to say that for? You’re ruining the mood!’
‘What mood? We’re just sorting out your room, I believe.’
Hermione stood a few paces in front of him, hands on hips, still looking amused. Ron was tempted to forgo the packing business for a while and get down to something else, but he knew that was impossible with his mum poking in every half hour to see if they had changed their minds about moving out yet.
'What did you tell her when she asked if you liked it?'
Ron snorted.
'I lied, of course. Said it was very nice, but I probably wouldn't have any chance to wear it.'
'And she believed you?' Hermione asked, incredulously.
'I think that, like with most things in our... er, relationship, she had to make herself believe it. Otherwise I don't get why she didn't ditch me sooner.'
'What did you get her?'
Ron looked away without replying.
'You didn’t get her anything for Christmas? Ron!'
'I didn't know we were doing that yet! We'd been together for... what? A month?' Ron rubbed the back of his neck. 'I did feel bad when I got her present, so I snatched some of mum's fudge, wrapped it, and sent it to her. She told me she didn't eat that kind of stuff because it gave her acne.'
'You were a terrible boyfriend.' Hermione laughed, shaking her head.
'You don't seem very upset about that...'
'Well, you're not a terrible boyfriend to me,' she clarified, 'and I'm very sorry for Lavender, really. But I mean, you were never actually committed, were you? All that time I thought, what if Lavender is your type? What if you become really invested in that relationship? What if you fell in love with her?' Hermione cleared her throat, all traces of amusement gone. 'Those were the things that hurt the most to think about.'
Ron felt like a petty kind of fungus. At the same time, it was exactly the same feelings he'd had when thinking about Hermione and Krum. What if he was her type? What if he treated her better than Ron ever had? What if she loved him?
'I didn't,' he said. 'I didn't love Lavender. I never thought she'd take our relationship that seriously... Blimey, I didn't even think we'd be in a relationship when she-we... I kissed her because I was angry and I thought you didn't care. Or I wanted to see if you did. I thought maybe you were inviting me to the party as friends, after all. When I saw you did care... it was-'
'Too late,' Hermione finished for him. It sounded so stupid now, and yet she could understand his reasoning. She'd done the same. Twice.
'But why... What happened? One day I was convinced we were going together to Slughorn's party, and the next you were treating me as if you hated me. Did I do something?'
'No! I mean, yes, but not at the time. Ginny,' he explained, standing up. 'She let it slip that you'd... snogged Krum.'
'What?! What did she do that for?' Hermione squeaked. Ginny was the only person she'd trusted enough to talk about it, and Hermione had made her promise she wouldn't tell either of the boys.
Ron told her about how he and Harry had found Ginny snogging the daylights out of Dean.
'She was under the impression that I was jealous because all of you had already kissed someone.'
'Oh no...' It was clearer now: Ron had had a double motive for his very public exhibitions of tongue-handling.
'I thought you would have told us if something like that happened, even if I knew it would have driven me mental anyway. And after you'd always insisted you weren't his girlfriend-well, I didn't want to go to that party with you, knowing you were thinking of someone else...'
Hermione smiled, relief and a sense of finally finding a missing puzzle piece spreading through her. She had spent months overanalysing everything that had happened between the Herbology class when she had invited him to that party and the morning she had woken up to his cold-shoulder treatment, hoping to find a clue in something she might have said or done.
'We did kiss, Ron. But we were never together. It was a one-time thing.'
Not that Viktor hadn't tried enough to make her like him, Hermione thought. She had been really flattered, ecstatic, that he'd wanted to go with her to the Ball. She'd kissed him back at the end of the night to see if she felt something for him, too. It had been nice, but that was it. After that, she could barely meet his eyes. How could she tell him she didn't reciprocate his feelings? The second task had made her feel even worse. Harry had even told her in private that Viktor had inquired about the nature of his relationship with Hermione, and she'd felt like laughing. He'd definitely been jealous of the wrong friend.
Ron put his arms tentatively around her, pulling her back to the present.
'I didn't hate you,' he said, softly. 'I'm sorry.'
Hermione relaxed into him and smiled against his chest.
'I might have hated you just the teensiest bit. But I'm sorry, too.'
Ron’s chest vibrated with laughter. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. It was the best part of kissing Ron, that she had to reach for him as if she was reaching for the most interesting book on the highest shelf.
It was true: there were times when Hermione had felt like she hated Ron. Their relationship, prior to actually getting together, was spattered with painful memories. So much had happened, though, that those memories seemed like they belonged to another lifetime. She’d never truly hated him, and neither had he. In the light of everything they had lived through together, of the life they were starting to build together, the memories didn’t hurt anymore.
'Let's finish packing, shall we?' Hermione said at last, squeezing Ron’s hand. ‘We have a move to get on with.’