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Hermione Granger

At the Burrow

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Name
Hermione Granger
Website
Phoenix Rising: A Harry Potter RPG

At the Burrow

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I cannot believe that this is actually happening to me.

Ron Weasley and I have been quarreling for the past 12 years. I have been in love with Ron for the past 8 years, and evidently he has been in love with me for roughly the same time. I haven’t even begun fathoming it, but that is not what is bothering me…or should I say us?

What has been bothering us for two days now is the complete and utter failure of our plans to be alone. Admittedly, Ron should come back to the Burrow for a better recuperation according to Mrs. Weasley but I don’t see how it is doing him any good.

He has been kept in bed most of his time here, in his room of course, while I have been sent to Ginny’s room to spend my nights. And that is exactly what is bothering me, and obviously Ron.

The time I spend in his room hardly gives us any time to talk or be alone, as we are apparently supervised. Of course Mrs. Weasley has never been disagreeable with me, and I love her as a second mother, but the constant ‘popping in to see if Ron is ok’ visits to his room while I’m around, have certainly gotten me disgruntled.

I sit on his bed holding his hand now and he’s looking at me, his head propped on pillows. He’s looking at me with that expression again…the one I know reflects my own. I smile as he raises my hand to his lips, but the kiss is not one that 19th century ladies would expect. He starts kissing my hand and then his lips trail kisses upwards to my wrist. He turns my hand and he directs his kisses on my palm and then to the point of my wrists where my skin is finer, fairer. I shiver, watching in fascination as he raises his head to look at me.

His eyes are a darker shade of blue than I have ever seen; like the sea at midnight…They’re glazed looking at me and I lean towards him wanting to feel those kisses that were given to my hand, on my lips.

I close my eyes, and let the sensation wash over me. This is our first real kiss since he woke up. It’s more intense than ever before. Now I know he loves me, and now he knows I love him as well. At least I hope he heard me that night when he woke up…But this kiss, this proves to me that he did. Our tongues meet and I feel that familiar warmth in the pit of my stomach, that need I’ve been feeling, whenever I’ve thought of Ron all these years.

His hand comes up to my hair, his fingers threading through my curls, and then his-

“Hello dears!”

We break the kiss apart as if lightning has struck the bed between us.

“Every time…like clockwork,” I whisper under my breath and I know that Ron can hear me, as he folds his hands on his lap and gives first me and then his mother a pained look.

“What is it, mum?” He asks her, with a sigh.

“Nothing dear, just wanted to ask you what you wanted for dinner,” she says, and yet I am completely certain that she already decided what is for dinner. I can’t blame her though. Mrs. Weasley is a woman of tradition, and certainly tradition does not allow that unengaged, not married couples can …’interact’ that way before marriage.

“We’re not staying for dinner,” my head shoots up when I hear Ron uttering those words.

“What?” Mrs. Weasley and I ask at the same time.

Ron turns at me and pins me with his stare, “I’m going to my place, and Hermione will make me dinner,” Mrs. Weasley opens her mouth to protest, but Ron adds hastily, “Then she’s going to go to her place. I’m fine mum. I can take care of myself. I just need to be alone for a little bit,” he concludes and looks at her innocently, with a most pleading look.

Mrs. Weasley stands there for a moment, and then launches a million questions at Ron. Whether he’s sure about being alone, will he Floo her twice a day to let her know he’s ok, and some questions that Ron obviously catches but to my ears they are just a buzzing.

Ron wants to be alone…but not by himself!

By the time Mrs. Weasley closes the door, I’m lost in thought about what that might entail, but Ron snaps me back to reality.

“Hermione? Will you…will you stay with me tonight?” He asks me uncertainly, and I think it’s that precise thing, his uncertainty that makes me more confident to accept. I nod at him, a bit nervously but smiling slightly nonetheless, and he smiles back at me.

Tonight…
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