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FIC: Home Is Where The Heart Is (Ron/Hermione)
Title: Home Is Where The Heart Is
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Word Count: 2,705
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for her seventh year makes Hermione slightly homesick until Ron turns up to remind her that home is where the heart is.
A/N: Written for the February Romance Challenge at the_hp_love, and as part of February Frenzy. A huge box of cuddles to gububba and latine for beta help!
Link to fic at the_hp_love
The first of September turned out to be much longer and much more tiring than Hermione had anticipated. The rush in the morning to pack and repack her bags, making sure she had precisely everything she would need for the school year was far more draining than she remembered. It did not help that Ron seemed bent on delaying her as he hung around her house, expertly distracting her from her list ... not that she really minded his distractions, but honestly, she needed to have her things in order. Then her goodbyes at King's Cross had definitely been emotionally exhausting as well -- all her prior mental preparation seemed in vain when it actually came time to bid Ron and Harry farewell.
She had thought that the journey to Hogwarts might allow her some rest, but what with having to head up her first prefect meeting as Head Girl, and then having to deal with a compartment-full of scared Muggle-born first-years who were suddenly terrified of the world they had entered, after hearing a lordly Zacharias Smith telling the tale of the Battle of Hogwarts -- as though he had not run like a coward from the scene! It had taken a while for Hermione to calm them down, promising that they were perfectly safe and Hogwarts was the right place for them to be. And once she had done so, word had got round that Hermione Granger was on the train, and she found herself pushed into a compartment and peppered with goggle-eyed stares and questions she was in no mood to answer and from hordes of younger students.
Ginny eventually came round to rescue her, but not before she had repeated a number of times that she did not want to talk about Harry or the war right now. (All in vain, judging by the way the questions kept coming.)
'Sorry to interrupt, Hermione,' Ginny said, a twinkle in her eye, 'but someone's let off a Dungbomb in one of the end corridors.' She looked around the crowded compartment. 'I thought I'd better get the Head Girl, you know, but the rest of you are welcome to come and help if you'd like.'
Unsurprisingly, no one did, and Hermione and Ginny were able to slip to the end of the train without company. The Dungbombs, fortunately, turned out to be a concoction of Ginny's, to spirit her away to a compartment where Ginny had already stowed their trunks in.
In the compartment with Ginny and a few other students who had been in the DA previously, Hermione was at last able to settle down comfortably and open the envelope Harry had pressed into her hands when she'd stepped aboard the train. (Ron had pressed something of a very different, but entirely welcome, nature against her cheeks; and in front of the entire platform too! She felt a blush rise in her face again as she thought of it, not without some pleasure.)
Out of the envelope fell a ratty old piece of parchment -- completely blank -- and a short note. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she saw it -- that piece of parchment was extremely familiar.
Harry had given her the Marauder's Map.
She felt a rush of warm surprise wash over her. The Map had, after all, been one of his most prized possessions, and he had so few of those left now. She knew he intended to leave it to Teddy one day, but hadn't thought he'd be willing to part with it so soon, and for her sake.
Hermione unfolded his short note and read:
I thought this would be better in your hands since you'll actually be at Hogwarts this year. And I think you do deserve to have it for a while, as you've always helped Ron and me with all our sneaking around. After seven years with us, you must by now be able to swear quite solemnly that you are up to no good.
She smiled at that last sentence. Below Harry's writing was a larger, also-familiar scrawl.
Some rules for you, Miss Head Girl:
1. No turning this in to McGonagall!
As if I would now! thought Hermione, shaking her head as she read on.
2. Don't you dare use the Map to find shortcuts to the library. I know you well enough to be sure that you'll spend quite enough time in there already as it is, without the two of us to stop you.
3. You might like to keep an eye on the Map at night sometimes.
Hermione could just imagine the wink that might accompany the mock-admonishing tone Ron would say all this in. She wondered what he and Harry were up to now. Probably reporting to Kingsley for registration in the Auror Training Programme. She tucked the Map and note into her beaded bag, which now held only her most important possessions, and went to dig in her trunk for her robes. It was nearly time for their arrival at Hogsmeade Station.
The first glimpse of Hogwarts from behind the Thestral-pulled carts was a high point for her -- Hermione felt proud to see the castle standing tall; over the summer, she had put in many long hours to help in rebuilding it such that it would be ready for the start of term. The most important bits were complete -- the grounds and the wards about it, the outer walls, the Great Hall. Inside there were still many areas that would be warded off and reconstruction would need to go on throughout the year, but the school had been declared fit to re-open, and Hermione was grateful. After all, she could hardly go back to do her seventh year if Hogwarts were closed.
The Welcome Feast was a little disturbing, however. It commenced with the shortest Sorting she'd ever seen. There was a lot of whispering when the Sorting Hat, for the first time in history, failed to sing, and croaked out houses in a weak, wheezy voice as it Sorted the short line of first-years. It seemed that many wizarding parents with children that age had either fled the country on learning of the new regime at Hogwarts last year, escaping before their children were subjected to the compulsory schooling, or chosen to home-school their offspring rather than send them back to a school still half in repairs. The reputation of Hogwarts, Hermione had to admit sadly, had been badly shaken by the war.
Then Professor McGonagall started her announcements by calling for a minute of silence in memory of those who had given their lives only last summer in the very Hall they sat. Although Hermione had been in the Great Hall so many times while working to rebuild, she had not felt as close to the battle as she did now, with the lights dimmed and the entire Hall of students and teachers perfectly silent. When she closed her eyes, the memory of holding a shaking Ron as he knelt over the body of Fred ...
'... advise all students to keep clear of the still-damaged areas, and if any of you wish to assist in repairs in your free time, please give your names to your Head of House.'
Her eyes jerked opened again at the end of Professor McGonagall's announcements. She glanced to Ginny, on her right; judging by the paleness of Ginny's face, she was recalling something similar. Hermione could have wagered that Ginny, too, barely heard the rest of Professor McGonagall's words.
Hermione doubted that Professor McGonagall meant to arouse bad memories; after all, the majority of the school hadn't been at the scene of the fighting; hadn't seen the dead bodies laid out in the Hall. And it was important that they remember, respect, and honour those who had given their lives so they could sit here today, free to learn in peace. Hermione wouldn't have had it any other way.
Still, she rather lost her appetite, and she could tell she wasn't the only one. Across the Hall, she could see the others, students who had also been at the forefront of the fight. Even from a distance, sorrow was plainly etched on their faces.
Therefore it was a very quiet dormitory that Hermione retired to with Ginny and Demelza Robins -- only three of them, as two of Ginny's year had never meant to continue schooling after O.W.L.s, and a third had fallen in battle. As Demelza had been of age and in the thick of the fighting, she too slipped into her night things and behind her bed-curtains right away.
At last, the day was over, and Hermione thought she should be only too glad to fall into her pillow and give in to slumber. But suddenly she felt very out of place. She was in a new dormitory -- as the rooms rotated with every cycle of students, her old dormitory now housed three first-year Gryffindors. Ron and Harry were no longer a wall away in the boys' rooms.
She missed them. She missed Ron.
Automatically, Hermione reached for her beaded bag and emptied its contents on her blankets, not wanting to dig around until she found the item she wanted: a little orange ring with a double C emblazoned in the centre. It was hardly anything valuable, and anyone else would probably have failed to understand why she found it special, but the colour of the ring reminded Hermione vividly of Ron's hair. And it had been a prized possession of Ron's. He had given it to her once he'd finally come to terms with her decision to return to Hogwarts, saying that if she was so intent on going away, he'd better leave her something so that she wouldn't study herself into forgetting him.
'As if anything could make me forget you,' she'd said. And she was quite certain that ring or no ring, she would not be forgetting their little tryst by the lake near the Burrow following that conversation anytime soon.
She held the ring in her palm until it was quite warm, pretending that it was Ron's hand she was clasping tightly. Her other hand returned the rest of her bag's contents one by one, until the last item, the Marauder's Map, was left.
You might like to keep an eye on the Map at night sometimes.
Before she had consciously decided on doing it, her wand was out, tip against the blank parchment. Hermione wasn't quite sure exactly what she would find, but she trusted Ron had good reason to leave her such an instruction.
'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'
The lines that made up the wonderful Map curled into place, ink rising up to form the active outline of the castle. The little labelled dots indicating people appeared. Hermione spotted her own name with ease.
Her eye searched for his name instinctively, before she could remind herself that Ron wouldn't appear because he wasn't at Hogwarts. It was therefore a shock when she suddenly saw the dot moving along a corridor. Hermione froze, staring at the name Ronald Weasley in disbelief. He couldn't be here -- he ought to be home, or at the Auror Academy Training Centre in Cornwall ... it was impossible that he should have come all the way to Hogwarts ...
But the Marauder's Map didn't lie, did it? Hermione's heart leapt. Ron, here ... She quickly traced her finger along the path he was taking, unquestionably towards Gryffindor Tower. The Charms corridor -- she could intersect him there. Immediately she shrugged into her dressing gown and slippers and padded out of bed, opening and closing the dormitory door softly so as not to wake Ginny or Demelza.
Fortunately the common room was empty and she was able to slip out the portrait hole without incident. The Fat Lady raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
She followed the Map through the quickest path along the corridors that would take her to Ron's advancing dot, heart beating faster as she did so. When the Map showed he was just around the corner, she quickened her pace to come round with a smile on her face, anticipating his look of surprise on finding her here, out of bed in the middle of the night.
The corridor, however, was completely empty. Momentarily stunned, Hermione held the Map up to her wand light and scrutinised it carefully. Yes, there she was, Hermione Granger, along the Charms corridor, and Ron Weasley should be right next to her. Only she couldn't see him ... she didn't see anyone.
She didn't see anyone.
Ah. It clicked in her head and she berated herself mentally for not realising from the start. At the same moment, she felt the familiar softness of Harry's Invisibility Cloak engulf her, and then arms encircled her from behind.
'Hey,' Ron breathed into her ear.
Hermione twisted round in his arms so that she was looking up at him. 'Ron.'
'I'm surprised at you,' he said. 'Sneaking around in the middle of the night? Most unbecoming of the Head Girl of Hogwarts.'
'Well, I saw an intruder and I thought I should go and deal with him.'
'Oh, are you going to do that now, then?'
'Mm hm.' She leaned in towards his face. 'It would be my duty, after all ...'
'Your duty,' repeated Ron.
'Yes, to keep you from disturbing the rest of the school.' And her lips found his. He obliged her most willingly with a kiss that sent her heart racing again.
'In that case,' he gasped as they broke apart, 'we should get out of the corridor. Come on.' He put an arm around her shoulders, made sure the Cloak was securely fastened around them, and led her down the corridor.
'I'm the one with the Map,' Hermione reminded him, holding it out in front of them. 'Turn around or we'll go right past Flitwick's office. He seems to still be moving about inside.'
Ron obeyed without comment, and Hermione directed him to an empty classroom.
'Is Harry somewhere about as well?' she asked him when they were safely inside.
'You're the one with the Map,' he laughed, but before she could search it, he continued, 'No, he was deep into a letter to Ginny when I left him. I would've written you too, but I figured this might be a pleasant surprise.'
'It is,' she agreed. 'So Harry let you have his Cloak?'
'Well ... he didn't exactly notice I borrowed it. I did ask, but he told me to bugger off and take whatever it was I wanted and let him write in peace.'
Hermione couldn't help laughing. 'But I suppose that means you can't stay long,' she sighed, sobering. 'Harry will be looking for you once he's done writing.'
'Oh, that'll be a while yet. It's only been five minutes.'
'Five minutes! But -- how ...? Even if you'd Apparated to Hogsmeade, all the secret passages we know are still blocked up or completely destroyed, so I can't imagine which one you used ...'
'I had this.' There was a clicking noise, and the lamps she had lit on entering the room went out suddenly. Another click, and this time she could see the balls of light fly back to their original positions.
'The Deluminator!'
'Yes.' Ron held it out to her. 'You remember how it brought me back to you before. I did some fiddling the past few weeks, and I suspected it must be set to take me home -- well, what my heart believes is home, anyway. I wasn't entirely sure if it wouldn't just cart me back to the Burrow, but then it didn't during the war, so ...' He set his gaze upon her very seriously. 'I reckon home is where you are. At least, in here --' he patted his chest '-- it is.'
Hermione thought her heart might burst with the sincerity of his words. And as Ron leaned forward to capture her lips again, she thought that this was the closest she had felt to home the whole day: here with Ron.
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Word Count: 2,705
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for her seventh year makes Hermione slightly homesick until Ron turns up to remind her that home is where the heart is.
A/N: Written for the February Romance Challenge at the_hp_love, and as part of February Frenzy. A huge box of cuddles to gububba and latine for beta help!
Link to fic at the_hp_love
The first of September turned out to be much longer and much more tiring than Hermione had anticipated. The rush in the morning to pack and repack her bags, making sure she had precisely everything she would need for the school year was far more draining than she remembered. It did not help that Ron seemed bent on delaying her as he hung around her house, expertly distracting her from her list ... not that she really minded his distractions, but honestly, she needed to have her things in order. Then her goodbyes at King's Cross had definitely been emotionally exhausting as well -- all her prior mental preparation seemed in vain when it actually came time to bid Ron and Harry farewell.
She had thought that the journey to Hogwarts might allow her some rest, but what with having to head up her first prefect meeting as Head Girl, and then having to deal with a compartment-full of scared Muggle-born first-years who were suddenly terrified of the world they had entered, after hearing a lordly Zacharias Smith telling the tale of the Battle of Hogwarts -- as though he had not run like a coward from the scene! It had taken a while for Hermione to calm them down, promising that they were perfectly safe and Hogwarts was the right place for them to be. And once she had done so, word had got round that Hermione Granger was on the train, and she found herself pushed into a compartment and peppered with goggle-eyed stares and questions she was in no mood to answer and from hordes of younger students.
Ginny eventually came round to rescue her, but not before she had repeated a number of times that she did not want to talk about Harry or the war right now. (All in vain, judging by the way the questions kept coming.)
'Sorry to interrupt, Hermione,' Ginny said, a twinkle in her eye, 'but someone's let off a Dungbomb in one of the end corridors.' She looked around the crowded compartment. 'I thought I'd better get the Head Girl, you know, but the rest of you are welcome to come and help if you'd like.'
Unsurprisingly, no one did, and Hermione and Ginny were able to slip to the end of the train without company. The Dungbombs, fortunately, turned out to be a concoction of Ginny's, to spirit her away to a compartment where Ginny had already stowed their trunks in.
In the compartment with Ginny and a few other students who had been in the DA previously, Hermione was at last able to settle down comfortably and open the envelope Harry had pressed into her hands when she'd stepped aboard the train. (Ron had pressed something of a very different, but entirely welcome, nature against her cheeks; and in front of the entire platform too! She felt a blush rise in her face again as she thought of it, not without some pleasure.)
Out of the envelope fell a ratty old piece of parchment -- completely blank -- and a short note. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she saw it -- that piece of parchment was extremely familiar.
Harry had given her the Marauder's Map.
She felt a rush of warm surprise wash over her. The Map had, after all, been one of his most prized possessions, and he had so few of those left now. She knew he intended to leave it to Teddy one day, but hadn't thought he'd be willing to part with it so soon, and for her sake.
Hermione unfolded his short note and read:
I thought this would be better in your hands since you'll actually be at Hogwarts this year. And I think you do deserve to have it for a while, as you've always helped Ron and me with all our sneaking around. After seven years with us, you must by now be able to swear quite solemnly that you are up to no good.
She smiled at that last sentence. Below Harry's writing was a larger, also-familiar scrawl.
Some rules for you, Miss Head Girl:
1. No turning this in to McGonagall!
As if I would now! thought Hermione, shaking her head as she read on.
2. Don't you dare use the Map to find shortcuts to the library. I know you well enough to be sure that you'll spend quite enough time in there already as it is, without the two of us to stop you.
3. You might like to keep an eye on the Map at night sometimes.
Hermione could just imagine the wink that might accompany the mock-admonishing tone Ron would say all this in. She wondered what he and Harry were up to now. Probably reporting to Kingsley for registration in the Auror Training Programme. She tucked the Map and note into her beaded bag, which now held only her most important possessions, and went to dig in her trunk for her robes. It was nearly time for their arrival at Hogsmeade Station.
The first glimpse of Hogwarts from behind the Thestral-pulled carts was a high point for her -- Hermione felt proud to see the castle standing tall; over the summer, she had put in many long hours to help in rebuilding it such that it would be ready for the start of term. The most important bits were complete -- the grounds and the wards about it, the outer walls, the Great Hall. Inside there were still many areas that would be warded off and reconstruction would need to go on throughout the year, but the school had been declared fit to re-open, and Hermione was grateful. After all, she could hardly go back to do her seventh year if Hogwarts were closed.
The Welcome Feast was a little disturbing, however. It commenced with the shortest Sorting she'd ever seen. There was a lot of whispering when the Sorting Hat, for the first time in history, failed to sing, and croaked out houses in a weak, wheezy voice as it Sorted the short line of first-years. It seemed that many wizarding parents with children that age had either fled the country on learning of the new regime at Hogwarts last year, escaping before their children were subjected to the compulsory schooling, or chosen to home-school their offspring rather than send them back to a school still half in repairs. The reputation of Hogwarts, Hermione had to admit sadly, had been badly shaken by the war.
Then Professor McGonagall started her announcements by calling for a minute of silence in memory of those who had given their lives only last summer in the very Hall they sat. Although Hermione had been in the Great Hall so many times while working to rebuild, she had not felt as close to the battle as she did now, with the lights dimmed and the entire Hall of students and teachers perfectly silent. When she closed her eyes, the memory of holding a shaking Ron as he knelt over the body of Fred ...
'... advise all students to keep clear of the still-damaged areas, and if any of you wish to assist in repairs in your free time, please give your names to your Head of House.'
Her eyes jerked opened again at the end of Professor McGonagall's announcements. She glanced to Ginny, on her right; judging by the paleness of Ginny's face, she was recalling something similar. Hermione could have wagered that Ginny, too, barely heard the rest of Professor McGonagall's words.
Hermione doubted that Professor McGonagall meant to arouse bad memories; after all, the majority of the school hadn't been at the scene of the fighting; hadn't seen the dead bodies laid out in the Hall. And it was important that they remember, respect, and honour those who had given their lives so they could sit here today, free to learn in peace. Hermione wouldn't have had it any other way.
Still, she rather lost her appetite, and she could tell she wasn't the only one. Across the Hall, she could see the others, students who had also been at the forefront of the fight. Even from a distance, sorrow was plainly etched on their faces.
Therefore it was a very quiet dormitory that Hermione retired to with Ginny and Demelza Robins -- only three of them, as two of Ginny's year had never meant to continue schooling after O.W.L.s, and a third had fallen in battle. As Demelza had been of age and in the thick of the fighting, she too slipped into her night things and behind her bed-curtains right away.
At last, the day was over, and Hermione thought she should be only too glad to fall into her pillow and give in to slumber. But suddenly she felt very out of place. She was in a new dormitory -- as the rooms rotated with every cycle of students, her old dormitory now housed three first-year Gryffindors. Ron and Harry were no longer a wall away in the boys' rooms.
She missed them. She missed Ron.
Automatically, Hermione reached for her beaded bag and emptied its contents on her blankets, not wanting to dig around until she found the item she wanted: a little orange ring with a double C emblazoned in the centre. It was hardly anything valuable, and anyone else would probably have failed to understand why she found it special, but the colour of the ring reminded Hermione vividly of Ron's hair. And it had been a prized possession of Ron's. He had given it to her once he'd finally come to terms with her decision to return to Hogwarts, saying that if she was so intent on going away, he'd better leave her something so that she wouldn't study herself into forgetting him.
'As if anything could make me forget you,' she'd said. And she was quite certain that ring or no ring, she would not be forgetting their little tryst by the lake near the Burrow following that conversation anytime soon.
She held the ring in her palm until it was quite warm, pretending that it was Ron's hand she was clasping tightly. Her other hand returned the rest of her bag's contents one by one, until the last item, the Marauder's Map, was left.
You might like to keep an eye on the Map at night sometimes.
Before she had consciously decided on doing it, her wand was out, tip against the blank parchment. Hermione wasn't quite sure exactly what she would find, but she trusted Ron had good reason to leave her such an instruction.
'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'
The lines that made up the wonderful Map curled into place, ink rising up to form the active outline of the castle. The little labelled dots indicating people appeared. Hermione spotted her own name with ease.
Her eye searched for his name instinctively, before she could remind herself that Ron wouldn't appear because he wasn't at Hogwarts. It was therefore a shock when she suddenly saw the dot moving along a corridor. Hermione froze, staring at the name Ronald Weasley in disbelief. He couldn't be here -- he ought to be home, or at the Auror Academy Training Centre in Cornwall ... it was impossible that he should have come all the way to Hogwarts ...
But the Marauder's Map didn't lie, did it? Hermione's heart leapt. Ron, here ... She quickly traced her finger along the path he was taking, unquestionably towards Gryffindor Tower. The Charms corridor -- she could intersect him there. Immediately she shrugged into her dressing gown and slippers and padded out of bed, opening and closing the dormitory door softly so as not to wake Ginny or Demelza.
Fortunately the common room was empty and she was able to slip out the portrait hole without incident. The Fat Lady raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
She followed the Map through the quickest path along the corridors that would take her to Ron's advancing dot, heart beating faster as she did so. When the Map showed he was just around the corner, she quickened her pace to come round with a smile on her face, anticipating his look of surprise on finding her here, out of bed in the middle of the night.
The corridor, however, was completely empty. Momentarily stunned, Hermione held the Map up to her wand light and scrutinised it carefully. Yes, there she was, Hermione Granger, along the Charms corridor, and Ron Weasley should be right next to her. Only she couldn't see him ... she didn't see anyone.
She didn't see anyone.
Ah. It clicked in her head and she berated herself mentally for not realising from the start. At the same moment, she felt the familiar softness of Harry's Invisibility Cloak engulf her, and then arms encircled her from behind.
'Hey,' Ron breathed into her ear.
Hermione twisted round in his arms so that she was looking up at him. 'Ron.'
'I'm surprised at you,' he said. 'Sneaking around in the middle of the night? Most unbecoming of the Head Girl of Hogwarts.'
'Well, I saw an intruder and I thought I should go and deal with him.'
'Oh, are you going to do that now, then?'
'Mm hm.' She leaned in towards his face. 'It would be my duty, after all ...'
'Your duty,' repeated Ron.
'Yes, to keep you from disturbing the rest of the school.' And her lips found his. He obliged her most willingly with a kiss that sent her heart racing again.
'In that case,' he gasped as they broke apart, 'we should get out of the corridor. Come on.' He put an arm around her shoulders, made sure the Cloak was securely fastened around them, and led her down the corridor.
'I'm the one with the Map,' Hermione reminded him, holding it out in front of them. 'Turn around or we'll go right past Flitwick's office. He seems to still be moving about inside.'
Ron obeyed without comment, and Hermione directed him to an empty classroom.
'Is Harry somewhere about as well?' she asked him when they were safely inside.
'You're the one with the Map,' he laughed, but before she could search it, he continued, 'No, he was deep into a letter to Ginny when I left him. I would've written you too, but I figured this might be a pleasant surprise.'
'It is,' she agreed. 'So Harry let you have his Cloak?'
'Well ... he didn't exactly notice I borrowed it. I did ask, but he told me to bugger off and take whatever it was I wanted and let him write in peace.'
Hermione couldn't help laughing. 'But I suppose that means you can't stay long,' she sighed, sobering. 'Harry will be looking for you once he's done writing.'
'Oh, that'll be a while yet. It's only been five minutes.'
'Five minutes! But -- how ...? Even if you'd Apparated to Hogsmeade, all the secret passages we know are still blocked up or completely destroyed, so I can't imagine which one you used ...'
'I had this.' There was a clicking noise, and the lamps she had lit on entering the room went out suddenly. Another click, and this time she could see the balls of light fly back to their original positions.
'The Deluminator!'
'Yes.' Ron held it out to her. 'You remember how it brought me back to you before. I did some fiddling the past few weeks, and I suspected it must be set to take me home -- well, what my heart believes is home, anyway. I wasn't entirely sure if it wouldn't just cart me back to the Burrow, but then it didn't during the war, so ...' He set his gaze upon her very seriously. 'I reckon home is where you are. At least, in here --' he patted his chest '-- it is.'
Hermione thought her heart might burst with the sincerity of his words. And as Ron leaned forward to capture her lips again, she thought that this was the closest she had felt to home the whole day: here with Ron.