Another request down! Sequel to 'Byron' is up!
So, I asked you lot to hit me with a request. And you did. This is one of those sequels. (Note: Four requests spots are still open if you want one)
For rhrsoulmates, this is what happens after Byron. It was written in less than an hour in the middle of the night. I'm really tired. I hope it's not craptacular. If it is, I'll fix it. Or something.
"Hermione?" Ron stopped outside the Great Hall after breakfast and took her hand. He wasn't really looking at her, his gaze darting to her before switching back to the direction Harry had gone off in. "I know exams are coming up and that we have to study, but d'you want to go for a walk around the lake with me?"
She looked out one of the high windows; the sky was a leaden gray, heavy with clouds. There was an obviously brisk wind kicking up and the corridors were raw with a damp, cold spring day. There wasn't really any question in the matter. "That'd be nice," she said. She smiled up at him, and then looked down, flushing slightly.
After a second Ron's hand bumped hers and their fingers laced together. "Cool," he said, grinning at her when she looked up.
Hermione laughed. She wasn't quite sure why, except for the fact that it was all so…cool. "Yes," she agreed. "We should get our cloaks," she said after a moment of smiling hand-holding.
"Oh!" Ron looked out the window and, apparently only then, noticed the weather. "Yeah, I reckon we should."
But before they could do more than turn to the stairs, Ginny was there. "Cloaks?" she offered, holding out their cloaks. "Harry said you'd be needing them, but he was already running late to detention," she added.
"Thanks Gin," Ron said, taking them both and handing Hermione hers. "If you see Harry before I do, tell him he's a prat," he called after his sister as she jogged back up the marble staircase. Ginny flashed him an 'okay' sign and disappeared down the Charms corridor. Ron shrugged at her, flushing a little as he let go of her hand and pulled on his cloak. "Told Harry I might see if you wanted to go walking," he explained in a mutter.
She led the way to the oak front doors, fastening her cloak as she went. "That was good of you," she said. "So he wouldn't worry if we're gone long." Once out on the stone steps she paused. Ron waited beside her, looking out over the grounds. Oh, for heaven's sake! she berated her self. This is stupid. Feeling twelve kinds of daring, Hermione reached out and slipped her hand into Ron's. His grip immediately tightened and then they were off, walking out across the grass.
"Strange this, isn't it?" Ron mused as they approached the lake, their footsteps crunching on the sand path there.
"What?"
"This," Ron said, swinging their joined hands.
Hermione blushed a little, turning her face out of the wind and letting her hair hide her for a moment before tossing it back. "I know."
Ron swung their hands again. "It's…what's the word for when two things are completely different but go together anyhow?"
"Dichotomy?" she offered.
"Sure," Ron said easily, darting a lopsided grin her way. When she tried to pull her hand back, playfully, he hung on and used her movement to draw her in closer to his side. "But it's strange. Before yesterday I don't think I've ever held your hand. And now, today, it feels like I've been doing it for ages."
Hermione let herself lean into him. "Yes, I know what you mean," she told him. "I keep being surprised by who's surprised that we're...us. Together." She looked up at him and then out over the water, his grin playing in the far edge of her vision. "It's almost like we've been this way for years. Like we've done most of the dating already and we're just an old married couple."
"I dunno," Ron said, sounding amused. "I don't think most old, married blokes get excited about grabbing their girl's hand and then get nervous wondering if she's going to throw him off for getting forward."
"Ron!"
"I could ask my dad, I suppose."
"Ron!" She couldn't help giggling. "You know what I meant!"
Ron laughed too. "I suppose I did." He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face as the wind whipped around them. "Still, I don't reckon I'd mind being an old married couple with you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "I don't think I'd mind, either," she confessed quietly. "But I'm not that keen on having a wedding," she added lightly. "Not after Bill and Fleur's affair."
Beside her, Ron shuddered. "I'd almost managed to forget that, Hermione, thanks." He smiled at her as she leaned into him and turned so that his back was to the wind, blocking her. "We'll just have to elope," he intoned solemnly.
"Right," she nodded. She waited a beat and looked up at him. "Doing anything this afternoon?" she asked sliding her arms around his waist.
"Studying," he said, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Besides, we'd need to round up a witness and ours is serving detention with McGonagall. Tomorrow, too." He hugged her close. "I'm open next Saturday, though, if you're up for a trip to the Ministry."
"I suppose I can wait that long," she sighed gustily. "It will give me time to rearrange our homework planners to give us the day off."
Ron nodded sagely. "Just be sure to pencil in 'run away with Ron and get married' so that you're not too tempted to have another impromptu practicals study group."
"All right," she agreed. Hermione pressed into Ron's comfortable embrace, feeling a warm glow of contentment. Which swiftly turned into shock. And a little fear. She stiffened. "Ron? I…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"Would you really, Hermione?" Ron asked into the ensuing silence. His voice was a little hoarse. A little strained.
Hermione swallowed and tried to sound light. "What? Run away with you and get married?" She couldn't look up at him for more than a second.
"Because I think I would," Ron said. "I think I might be serious, if you mean it."
What are you thinking? Her common sense shouted as her heart tripped and began to race. But really, she thought, what was she waiting for? For years, through some of the worst moments of her life, she'd clung on to the feelings she had for Ron…even when logic dictated that she give them up. They might have been young, but they were of age. And they'd been together-the best of friends, the first flutterings of love-for years already. All the plans she had for her life already included Ron in them and really, who knew if they'd even survive through the hunt for the horcruxes, let alone the rest of the war? "I think I might," she said, pulling back to look up at him. "Mean it, that is."
Ron stared down at her, his blue eyes glowing. "I can…If…there's" he took a breath, shook his head hard, and grinned. "If you don't mind waiting until I'm sure my Mum won't skin me, there's a ring. It's probably a bit battered up," he winced slightly as he said it and Hermione's heart turned over.
"I don't care," she said quietly.
And though he nodded, his eyes were fierce. "The thing is, it's been in the family for ages. Goblin wrought gold, gimmel with diamonds or some such. Some sparkly stone."
"I don't care," she repeated.
"I know you don't," he said. "I know, but I want you to know that it's the ring I want for you. The ones who've had it, they've never…they've always been together. We've just got to wait until I can ask Mum for it."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, tears welling up in her eyes. And suddenly, remarkable, she was laughing again. "Can you hear us? Worrying about what your mum is going to think of us eloping? We're so stupid!" She threw her arms around him.
Ron laughed to, plucking her up and swinging her around. "You think that's stupid? Hermione Granger, I don't think I've even kissed you and by next week I'm going to be married to you."
Hermione caught his face in her hands. "I know!"
Maybe they had to wait a week to run away together. Maybe they'd have to wait months to ask his parents for the ring he wanted her to wear. It could be years before the war would finish. But she could kiss him right here and right now.
So she did.
For rhrsoulmates, this is what happens after Byron. It was written in less than an hour in the middle of the night. I'm really tired. I hope it's not craptacular. If it is, I'll fix it. Or something.
"Hermione?" Ron stopped outside the Great Hall after breakfast and took her hand. He wasn't really looking at her, his gaze darting to her before switching back to the direction Harry had gone off in. "I know exams are coming up and that we have to study, but d'you want to go for a walk around the lake with me?"
She looked out one of the high windows; the sky was a leaden gray, heavy with clouds. There was an obviously brisk wind kicking up and the corridors were raw with a damp, cold spring day. There wasn't really any question in the matter. "That'd be nice," she said. She smiled up at him, and then looked down, flushing slightly.
After a second Ron's hand bumped hers and their fingers laced together. "Cool," he said, grinning at her when she looked up.
Hermione laughed. She wasn't quite sure why, except for the fact that it was all so…cool. "Yes," she agreed. "We should get our cloaks," she said after a moment of smiling hand-holding.
"Oh!" Ron looked out the window and, apparently only then, noticed the weather. "Yeah, I reckon we should."
But before they could do more than turn to the stairs, Ginny was there. "Cloaks?" she offered, holding out their cloaks. "Harry said you'd be needing them, but he was already running late to detention," she added.
"Thanks Gin," Ron said, taking them both and handing Hermione hers. "If you see Harry before I do, tell him he's a prat," he called after his sister as she jogged back up the marble staircase. Ginny flashed him an 'okay' sign and disappeared down the Charms corridor. Ron shrugged at her, flushing a little as he let go of her hand and pulled on his cloak. "Told Harry I might see if you wanted to go walking," he explained in a mutter.
She led the way to the oak front doors, fastening her cloak as she went. "That was good of you," she said. "So he wouldn't worry if we're gone long." Once out on the stone steps she paused. Ron waited beside her, looking out over the grounds. Oh, for heaven's sake! she berated her self. This is stupid. Feeling twelve kinds of daring, Hermione reached out and slipped her hand into Ron's. His grip immediately tightened and then they were off, walking out across the grass.
"Strange this, isn't it?" Ron mused as they approached the lake, their footsteps crunching on the sand path there.
"What?"
"This," Ron said, swinging their joined hands.
Hermione blushed a little, turning her face out of the wind and letting her hair hide her for a moment before tossing it back. "I know."
Ron swung their hands again. "It's…what's the word for when two things are completely different but go together anyhow?"
"Dichotomy?" she offered.
"Sure," Ron said easily, darting a lopsided grin her way. When she tried to pull her hand back, playfully, he hung on and used her movement to draw her in closer to his side. "But it's strange. Before yesterday I don't think I've ever held your hand. And now, today, it feels like I've been doing it for ages."
Hermione let herself lean into him. "Yes, I know what you mean," she told him. "I keep being surprised by who's surprised that we're...us. Together." She looked up at him and then out over the water, his grin playing in the far edge of her vision. "It's almost like we've been this way for years. Like we've done most of the dating already and we're just an old married couple."
"I dunno," Ron said, sounding amused. "I don't think most old, married blokes get excited about grabbing their girl's hand and then get nervous wondering if she's going to throw him off for getting forward."
"Ron!"
"I could ask my dad, I suppose."
"Ron!" She couldn't help giggling. "You know what I meant!"
Ron laughed too. "I suppose I did." He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face as the wind whipped around them. "Still, I don't reckon I'd mind being an old married couple with you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "I don't think I'd mind, either," she confessed quietly. "But I'm not that keen on having a wedding," she added lightly. "Not after Bill and Fleur's affair."
Beside her, Ron shuddered. "I'd almost managed to forget that, Hermione, thanks." He smiled at her as she leaned into him and turned so that his back was to the wind, blocking her. "We'll just have to elope," he intoned solemnly.
"Right," she nodded. She waited a beat and looked up at him. "Doing anything this afternoon?" she asked sliding her arms around his waist.
"Studying," he said, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Besides, we'd need to round up a witness and ours is serving detention with McGonagall. Tomorrow, too." He hugged her close. "I'm open next Saturday, though, if you're up for a trip to the Ministry."
"I suppose I can wait that long," she sighed gustily. "It will give me time to rearrange our homework planners to give us the day off."
Ron nodded sagely. "Just be sure to pencil in 'run away with Ron and get married' so that you're not too tempted to have another impromptu practicals study group."
"All right," she agreed. Hermione pressed into Ron's comfortable embrace, feeling a warm glow of contentment. Which swiftly turned into shock. And a little fear. She stiffened. "Ron? I…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"Would you really, Hermione?" Ron asked into the ensuing silence. His voice was a little hoarse. A little strained.
Hermione swallowed and tried to sound light. "What? Run away with you and get married?" She couldn't look up at him for more than a second.
"Because I think I would," Ron said. "I think I might be serious, if you mean it."
What are you thinking? Her common sense shouted as her heart tripped and began to race. But really, she thought, what was she waiting for? For years, through some of the worst moments of her life, she'd clung on to the feelings she had for Ron…even when logic dictated that she give them up. They might have been young, but they were of age. And they'd been together-the best of friends, the first flutterings of love-for years already. All the plans she had for her life already included Ron in them and really, who knew if they'd even survive through the hunt for the horcruxes, let alone the rest of the war? "I think I might," she said, pulling back to look up at him. "Mean it, that is."
Ron stared down at her, his blue eyes glowing. "I can…If…there's" he took a breath, shook his head hard, and grinned. "If you don't mind waiting until I'm sure my Mum won't skin me, there's a ring. It's probably a bit battered up," he winced slightly as he said it and Hermione's heart turned over.
"I don't care," she said quietly.
And though he nodded, his eyes were fierce. "The thing is, it's been in the family for ages. Goblin wrought gold, gimmel with diamonds or some such. Some sparkly stone."
"I don't care," she repeated.
"I know you don't," he said. "I know, but I want you to know that it's the ring I want for you. The ones who've had it, they've never…they've always been together. We've just got to wait until I can ask Mum for it."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, tears welling up in her eyes. And suddenly, remarkable, she was laughing again. "Can you hear us? Worrying about what your mum is going to think of us eloping? We're so stupid!" She threw her arms around him.
Ron laughed to, plucking her up and swinging her around. "You think that's stupid? Hermione Granger, I don't think I've even kissed you and by next week I'm going to be married to you."
Hermione caught his face in her hands. "I know!"
Maybe they had to wait a week to run away together. Maybe they'd have to wait months to ask his parents for the ring he wanted her to wear. It could be years before the war would finish. But she could kiss him right here and right now.
So she did.