“Ron, you prat, look out!”
Ron Weasley nearly fell off his broomstick as an apple hit him, hard, in the side of the head, interrupting his daydream. Eyes watering in pain, he angled his broom towards the ground and came in for a messy landing on the back yard of the Burrow, rubbing the side of his head. He had been playing catch with Harry on broomsticks when he had spotted a certain brunette walking across the yard with Ginny, and his concentration was broken.
It had been one month since the Battle of Hogwarts and the downfall of Voldemort. The injuries that they had suffered were fading into scars, but Ron was sure that neither he or anyone else who had survived the war would ever be the same again. Now, Harry and Hermione had joined Ron, Ginny, and their parents at the Burrow.
“Ron, are you okay?” asked Harry, landing smoothly beside him.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…” said Ron distractedly, waving off Harry and looking over at his sister and Hermione, who were now walking towards them across the sunlit yard. He had never noticed, or perhaps never appreciated how beautiful Hermione was…
Her once frizzy hair now tamed into smooth chestnut curls… Her deep brown eyes sparkling in the summer sun…
“Ron.”
Her smile as she laughed at something Ginny had just said…
“Ron, snap out of it!”
Ron was brought out of his reverie and saw a black-haired, green-eyed boy snapping his fingers in front of his face.
“Come on, lover boy,” said Harry, smirking, pulling on Ron’s arm and pointing to the brilliant sky. “Get back in the air!”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hours later, after a particularly hard flying session, Ron fell into his bed in his attic room that he was sharing with Harry. Tired though he was, Ron remained awake long after Harry’s breathing had become slow and regular.
In the darkness, Ron let his mind wander back to his favorite subject: Hermione. They had been best friends for seven years, but for the past two, he had been feeling differently about her. And now with the war over, they could finally be together.
It was strange, but the very war that had put them on hold had also made Ron realize just how much he cared about Hermione. Whenever it had seemed like the end, she had been the reason that he kept fighting. When he had thought he was going to lose her, as he had listened to her screams, he had felt her pain as his. At the mere thought that she might not survive, he had wished he were dying instead…
After everything, Ron had realized, for the first time in his life, he was in love.
The only problem, however, was that he had no idea how to tell her. Everything he came up with sounded unoriginal, like something on a Valentine’s Day card. He wanted the first time he told Hermione that he loved her to be special, something that they’d both remember for the rest of their lives.
Ron rolled over, punching his pillow. How come girls never have to deal with this? he thought, getting more comfortable and falling into an uneasy sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Three weeks later, Ron still hadn’t told Hermione how he felt. Now, at least, Ron knew exactly what he was going to say, having spent hours going over the conversation in his head.
But figuring out what he was going to say and actually saying it were two very different things. Ron had survived a war and done things that required a lot of bravery, but this took a different kind of courage.
Even if he could work up the courage to say it, he needed the proper time to say it, when he and Hermione were alone. Unfortunately for Ron’s nerves, such a moment arrived rather sooner than expected.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and a light breeze played with Ron’s hair as he sat under the ancient oak tree in the yard, Hermione right beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.
This was the first time that they had been really alone since returning to the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was at work and Mrs. Weasley had left them alone for a few hours while she ran some errands. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had played a few games of exploding snap in the living room, burning the carpet in the process, then left the stuffy house and gone out into the bright sunshine. Harry and Ginny had headed off for a “walk,” and Ron and Hermione were now sitting under this tree. Alone. Now was the only chance he’d have to tell her how he felt. Ron was silent for a few moments, struggling to bring himself to say what he needed too.
“Ron?” Hermione asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah… I’m fine, I’m better than fine, actually I’m great,” he said distractedly, twisting his fingers nervously in his lap.
“Are you sure? You seem a bit distracted,” she said. Even though he wasn’t looking at her, he knew she was concerned.
“Really, Hermione, I’m fine, I’m just… trying to tell you something… but I don’t know how to say it,” Ron said jerkily, rubbing the back of his neck. He finally looked at her and their eyes met. One look in her intense chocolate eyes and he forgot every word of his carefully prepared speech.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Say it, just say it, Ron! he told himself. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Just do it. Now! Ron fought with himself, willing his voice to say what he wanted-needed-her to know. Looking away from Hermione, he ran his fingers through his ginger hair, silently cursing himself for his lack of courage.
Suddenly, he felt a small, warm hand on his shoulder. Looking back at Hermione, he knew he had to say it because this was one thing he was certain of; nothing had ever been more true.
Oh bugger.
“Hermione,” he started, not looking away from her, “I - er…” He felt like he was drowning. “I think I love you,” he nearly whispered then turned away quickly. He had wanted to say something amazing, sweet, and romantic… but he was only Ron.
“Ron,” Hermione whispered. Ron looked at her and was surprised to see tears glittering in her eyes.
Oh no, now I’ve made her cry?! Ron thought, thinking he had done something to upset her or perhaps told her too soon.
But then she smiled, and her smile was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. It lit up her face and told him all he needed to know. Ron smiled in relief and tears of joy sprang to his eyes too as she whispered in his ear.
“I love you too, Ron.”
Ron pulled Hermione into a crushing hug, holding on to her with all his strength.
After a moment however, Hermione laughed, “Ron, need-to-breath!” as she pulled away, leaning back against the tree with his arm around her shoulders and her head on his chest. Ron never knew how long they sat there, huddled against each other, but soon they could hear voices calling up the hill from the house.
“Ron! Hermione!”
“Mum’s home and dinner’s ready!”
Harry and Ginny’s voices floated up the hill.
Ron groaned and stayed where he was as Hermione got to her feet, brushing stray leaves off her clothes.
“Ron Weasley, refusing food. I never thought I’d see the day!” Hermione joked, then ran, laughing, as Ron chased her down the hill.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Later that night, after a huge dinner of turkey and roast potatoes, Ron sat on the couch in the family room, his eyes on the blazing fire in front of him. Hermione was fast asleep, curled up on the cushion beside him. As he stroked her gleaming chestnut hair, Ron was preoccupied with his latest dilemma. If it had been that hard for him to tell Hermione that he loved her, how was he ever going to ask this girl to marry him?
But Ron knew, somehow, looking down at her peaceful form, she would say yes, no matter what he said, because he was Ron.
