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[waningred]

Who: Hermione and Ron
Where: Ron's bedroom, Order HQ
When: 24th February 2002
Status: Complete

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Hermione shut the door softly behind her because she absolutely wasn't going to leave until they'd had a chance to talk. The last time this had happened she'd wished she'd been able to find him so they could work out their problems, but that had never happened. She wasn't about to let this opportunity pass her by.

"I've not come here to yell at you." She walked around the bed and conjured a stool next to his bed, setting the small bowl of some sort of Asian concoction that Terry had supplied sometime ago (for minor scrapes), onto the night stand. "I do want to talk to you, but I'm not going to yell."

Sitting on the stool, Hermione dipped her fingers into the lotion (they were clean, she'd just washed them and sanitised them with a spell) and reached over to smear it on a scrape across his shoulder. She'd not seen him when he'd come in with Neville and she was a bit glad for that. It was hard enough to see the few cuts and scrapes and his arm wrapped in a thick bandage.

"You were right," she said softly.

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Ron stiffened at her touch, something that hadn't occurred since they were teens still struggling with raging hormones and unrequited feelings for each other. If only he could get up from this bed and put some space between the two of them to gather his thoughts. Control the wild blood and violent urges that surged through his veins.

Sighing, Ron willed himself to resume concentrating on anything except the slender fingers rubbing ointment over what amounted to road rash. It wasn't easy. Her movements coupled with the sharp odour of calendula raised the hair on the back of his neck.

Cracking an eye open, he peered at the opposing wall through a titian veil. "Right about what? That you always get what you want regardless of how many people you have to step on along the way?"

There. A cutting remark and we're on solid ground again.

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Pulling her hand back, Hermione shifted so that she wasn't so close to the bed. Obviously her being there wasn't helping much. And she had to take a breath to keep from snapping back at him. She went silent for a long moment, turning partially so she was looking out the window instead of at him.

"Right about a lot of things." She looked down at her fingertips, slightly coated in ointment. "I made a lot of mistakes. Not telling you about Michael... both what happened when the Order was still at Hogwarts or what was going on with his magic.... that was a big one."

She wiped her hand against the bottom of her jumper. There wasn't much that she could say. Hermione didn't even think that he was even listening or considering what she was telling him. But she was prepared for him to withhold any forgiveness. She wasn't looking for that.

That, above all, would take a lot of time.

"I'm sorry."

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"Sorry?" Ron snorted, sitting up so abruptly that the room tilted at an odd angle. Maybe he wasn't feeling as well as he'd thought after all. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, a shadowy look passed over his features.

"Sorry for cuckolding me for the likes of him when I trusted you," he hissed, working himself into a right state. So much so that he didn't even realise he'd pulled himself free of the blankets tangled around his waist to crouch in the middle of the bed. "Sorry doesn't live here anymore, Hermione..."

"Oh don't look so bloody surprised. I know what that word means." Unlike the last time he and Hermione were apart, he'd actually made an effort to read something besides the occasional sporting magazine. It surprised him a little how much random information he was capable of retaining when he really put his mind to it.

If only he would have tried half as hard at school.

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Hermione stood up so quickly that the stool she'd conjured flipped over, hit the floor and vanished with a pop. How quickly he could cause her anger to flare up. Damn him.

"Now you just wait a goddamn minute and listen for once! I did not cuckold you! Michael and I had a thing when the Order was at Hogwarts. Truth. I kept some secrets about him from you. Truth! Was I shagging him while you and I were together? Absolutely NOT! We were trying to keep his magic from disappearing!"

She glared at him. Everything about him made her angry right now. She couldn't even feel sympathy for his situation. She didn't even know how to address it just yet.

"If you don't believe me, fine. There were some things I just couldn't tell you, but I would never do that to you." Her voice dropped down and went even and cool. "But if you just think I'm a slag and you won't think of me as anything but.... well I might as well leave."

She gestured to the bowl. "That will help your scrapes."