Fanfiction by The Steppy One

A Love That Runs So Deep | Rated: T | Hr/G & H/R

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 20:27:01 GMT

Title: A Love that Runs So Deep
Author/Artist: thesteppyone
Gift For: redhedsarehot
Rating: R for language
Featured Character or Pairing(s): Harry/Ron, Hermione/George, past Ron/Hermione which is mentioned a lot.
Summary: Ron and Hermione's mission goes horribly wrong and serious complications arise. How will they and Harry and George cope with their capture, and the aftermath?
Warnings: Serious injury, swearing, angst
Word Count:Many words... ~16,000. Kinda got away from me a little...
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a car. Oh, and a bike. No copyright infringement is intended, I own none of the names, places, characters or spells you recognise. I'm just playing in the sandbox, all shall be exactly as it was, when I leave :)
Author's notes: So It says Harry/Ron but this Is me, so of course It's all about the Ron/Hermione… :D

A Love That Runs So Deep: Part 2

Ron

She was still breathing.

This fact and this fact alone was fuelling the constant pacing.

He had done the crying over her body and that hadn't helped. He had done the shouting, sometimes incoherently and that hadn't helped.

He was now pacing, and that wasn't helping, but it was making him think things through. Ron paced when he was thinking and he thought most clearly when he paced. He was still feeling a little dizzy but the nausea had passed.

He had taken in all the details of his surroundings, not that there was much to take in, they were in quite a large room, which had remnants of two walls which previously divided the cell into three. Rubble was lying in neat lines - apart from the bits that he had kicked across the cell in anger.

He had to think things through. Hermione may have decided she was fine with dying in here, but he wasn't, and while she was still breathing, he would do anything to get her and himself out alive.

He knew they were underground, having stumbled down the stairs to get to where they were and he walked over to the wall he had been lying against. He looked carefully at one of the roughly cut rocks that made up the wall. he dug his fingernails into the cement surrounding it and it fell away to the floor.

'Slightly disturbing,' he mumbled to himself.

It was a possible way out if they had been left and their captor wasn't coming back. It would take him a long time to dig himself a tunnel and it would be highly unstable and dangerous anyway.

He shrugged and walked to the bars that stopped their escape. They were rusty and he hissed when a chuck pulled off and wedged in the cut in his palm.

'Well, I suppose adding possible blood infection to this whole situation makes things more fun!'

He pulled out the rust and it crumbled in his fingers. He walked to where the bars were buried into the stone and although there was some give when he pushed and pulled at them with all his strength, it was only minimal movement.

'Come on!' he said through gritted teeth as he threw his shoulder at the bars. 'Come ON!

As pain coursed through his shoulder he slumped against the wall.

He slid down until he was sitting on the floor and let his head fall against his knees.

Tears leaked out of his eyes, he didn't have the energy to cry in earnest. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. When his heart was beating at what he though was a normal pace, he heard an explosion above him. More of the cement in the walls fell to the floor. Ron jumped to his feet and twisted around trying to determine where above him the explosion has originated. It was then he heard shouts, screams and more bangs. A couple of minutes later, everything was silent.

George

'Hermione!'

He had been told to wait until they had been told it was all clear, but he didn't care if there were more people down there, Hermione and Ron were down there and that was all that mattered to him.

Shouts and cries followed him down the stairs, but he ignored them all.

He sprinted into the room and instantly spotted Ron who was as close to the door as possible!

'Ron! Are you okay? Where's Hermi-'

He had seen her, curled up in a ball on the floor near the back wall. Dread flowed through him.

'Oh, Merlin, no.'

'George, blow up the fucking bars!'

People appeared behind him but he only had eyes for his girl.

He pointed his wand at the heavy lock on the cell door. He didn't consciously think of a spell, but the metal exploded and showered him and Ron in hot shards. He ignored the scratches and crawled through the twisted metal. He ran towards Hermione and fell to his knees next to her.

'Hermione! I'm here, you're safe now. Come on, my darling, open your eyes.'

'George, she won't… she's…' Ron said from behind him.

'I swear to Merlin, Ron you want to be very careful about how you end that sentence.'

'Just get her to St. Mungo's. Now!'

He picked her up and spun on the spot. Thinking of the only place that could help her.

He appeared in the reception of the hospital and regained his balance before powering his legs towards the Healer who happened to be walking towards him as he arrived.

'Help her!' he shouted.

Startled, the Healer conjured a stretcher out of thin air and George carefully laid Hermione on the stretcher.

'What happened to her?'

It was only now in the bright lights of the hospital that George took in what state Hermione was in. He looked at the cuts and bruises on her face and neck, and then his eyes slid to the dark red stain covering most of her side. He pulled up her top a couple of inches and gasped when he saw the mess that was her wound.

'Sir! What happened?'

George shook his head for two reasons, one, he didn't know and two, this couldn't have happened to his girl.

'She was inside a building and there was a big explosion.' George looked behind him and saw Ron striding towards them. 'She was thrown about twenty feet and landed, possibly unconscious, and she was struck by a large chunk of metal, hence the blood and the wound in her side. She lost consciousness about an hour ago but somehow she's still breathing.'

'Thank you, we'll take it from here.'

The Healer and two others who had arrived in the past minute took Hermione down the corridor. He went to follow but a Mediwitch appeared as if out of nowhere and placed a gentle but firm hand on his chest.

'Sir, we need her details, could you give them to Katie who's on reception, please?'

He went to argue but knew it would do no good. He nodded his head and swallowed down his argument and walked towards the woman called Katie.

'What's her name, Sir?'

'Hermione Granger,' he whispered.

There was a looked of stunned recognition at the name on Katie's face, but she went about writing the name on her hospital forms.

'Her date of birth, Sir?'

'Please… stop calling me Sir, Call me George… Her date of birth is the nineteenth of September, nineteen seventy-nine. When can I see her?'

'I'm sorry si- George. I-… I don't wish to be unprofessional, but you're her boyfriend, George Weasley, aren't you?'

George nodded, a flame of hope igniting inside him that this sort of recognition would help him see Hermione sooner rather than later.

'I'm… I'm afraid it will be family only for the time being. Do you know how we can contact her parents?'

He wilted. 'Is there nothing you can do to help me find out how she is?'

She sighed and looked at him. 'George, I can't-'

'Katie, if you don't mind me asking, are you married?'

She shook her head. 'No, I love him but I'm not sure if we're ready for… that…'

'But you love him, yeah? And you'd be dying inside if you couldn't find out if he was going to… you'd want to make sure he was okay, wouldn't you. If anything happened to him?'

She nodded but didn't look him in the eye.

'I know it's asking a lot, but anything you can do, I'll be so grateful.'

She nodded. 'I'll do what I can' she whispered. She cleared her throat. 'It's probably quicker if you just fill this out , instead of me asking and having to ask you to spell things. I'm dyslexic and normal spell-checking quills don't seem to work always on a case as severe as mine.' She smirked a little uncomfortably and handed him the quill and paper.

'Next time you're in Diagon Alley, drop in to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Our spell checking quills learn from you and what your most common mistakes are, you can also add words to them, like names and things and they have a three year guarantee. Hmm, sorry, I went into salesman mode then. I'll just get this filled out and let you get on with your work.'

'Do they really have a three year guarantee?' she asked, looking deadly serious.

'Er, yeah, but honestly, they were only released two and a half years ago, so hopefully they'll last another six months or I'm going to have some explaining to do!'

She giggled and he smiled. He finished filling out the form, skipping through a few of the details but putting the important information down. He handed back the form and she put it in a cardboard file and put it in the pile next to her.

'I'll see what I can do about… you know… but I can't make any promises.

'Thanks.'

He turned and walked towards Ron, who was sitting with his head in his hands.

'Ron, a word, outside, please.'

Ron sighed as if he knew what was coming. He walked out the door and knew Ron was following.

He needed some answers.

Harry

He needed to know why he wasn't with Ron, why he wasn't holding him close to him and why he wasn't making sure he was all right.

Instead he was filling out paperwork and pretending to care about the person who was lying dead in the depths of the Ministry.

He had no idea how he had died, curses could have combined, someone could have sent the Avada Kadavra at him, which was justified as it was being sent at them faster than he thought was possible from one person.

'Potter!'

He was brought back to the Auror Office by Kingsley's voice.

'Y…yes, Sir?' he said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

'I've told you, Harry, don't call me Sir.'

Harry nodded.

'Why are you here and not at the hospital with Ron and Hermione?'

'Paperwork, you know…'

Kingsley took the paperwork off him and threw it on the nearest desk.

'Go. Now. And don't come back until Ron has been cleared to come back to work.'

'But, Kings-'

'Don't argue with me, Harry. I don't care what Reynolds says; I'm your highest possible boss so you can't get in trouble. Leave the paperwork until later. Go and see Ron.'

Mortified that tears were burning his eyes in front of the Minister for Magic, Harry nodded.

'Thank you,' he said, his voice raspy.

He turned and walked out of the office and down the corridor to the golden gates of the lift. On autopilot, he told the lifts to take him to the Atrium and he Flooed to St. Mungo's. He walked to reception and gave a half smile to the woman behind the counter.

'Er… hi, I'm here to see… well, I don't know if I can or not, but, um, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.'

The woman smiled. 'It's Mister Potter, isn't it?' she said kindly.

Harry smiled and nodded. 'Miss Granger is being treated but I think Ron and his brother are outside.

'Outside?'

'Um, yes, George… um…'

Harry raised his eyebrows.

'George…' he prompted.

'He er… asked Ron, if he could talk to him… outside.'

She nodded and raised her eyes above Harry's head. He took that to mean to look behind him.

He turned and when the person who was an interesting shade of purple had fully come through the glass into the hospital, Harry saw two unmistakable patches of red through the frosted glass.

'Er, Mister Potter?'

He had already taken a step forwards, not entirely sure what was going on, but turned back to look at the woman.

'George asked if I could try and get him some information about Miss Granger. I'm not supposed to but… if you could give him this…'

She held out a tiny rolled up piece of parchment, and Harry nodded. He realised this was probably some information about Hermione that technically George wasn't supposed to know because he wasn't related to her. He smiled at her and then turned his intention to the two shapes he could see through the frosted glass, which seemed to be gesturing wildly. He started to jog.

Ron

'I know you're unbelievably angry, and probably at me for insisting it had to be Hermione who came with me and no one else, I blame myself too, but I don't know what I can say to make it better.'

George turned away from him and paced a bit before turning back towards him.

'If it makes you feel better, it's not just you I blame, I blame myself and the whole of the Ministry, too.'

'It makes me feel a little better,' Ron replied staring directly at George. 'Still doesn't change anything, and while we're out here we're not finding out about how she is.'

'This might help that.'

He spun around and was very surprised to see Harry. Harry walked up to him and held out the parchment to give to George.

'It's from the woman on reception.'

'Katie?' George asked as he took the parchment.

'Um, I don't know, she didn't tell me her name.'

'How are you feeling?' Harry asked him. He felt his hand squeeze his shoulder. He shrugged. 'Okay, suppose. Been better.'

He forced a smile.

'She's alive,' George said abruptly. 'They have no idea how, but she's alive.'

'Will she be okay?' he asked.

George shrugged. 'Dunno, it only says what I just said. She wasn't even supposed to tell me that…'

'Have you been checked out?' Harry asked him. He shook his head. 'Nah, I'm fine.'

'You're not. You need to get checked over. For my peace of mind, please.'

Ron turned and looked at Harry. He had missed him, wished he could hold him one more time. But now, as he looked at him he couldn't bring him to give him the hug both he and Harry needed. He nodded his head.

'Come on,' he said to George. George nodded. They all walked through the glass and Healers suddenly surrounded Ron.

'Mister Weasley, would you please follow us? We have some questions to ask you.'

'Oh, um, yeah, of course.'

He followed the group of Healers – why there were four of them he wasn't sure – through a few doors and then into a consulting room. There was a couple of seconds where he knew they were considering asking George and Harry to wait outside but the glares that they received in response to their none question stopped them saying a thing.

'Anything you want to say to me will be repeated to them, so if you could save me the hassle…'

Ron sat in one of the seats and looked around the crowded room. Consultation rooms were not made for seven people but it would have to do.

'Mister Weasley, we need to talk to you about what happened to Miss Granger.'

Ron nodded. 'Is she going to be all right?' he asked to no one in particular.

There was a few seconds wait before anyone answered him.

'We think so, but to be honest we have no idea how she's alive. She should be dead. Even with the standard presumption that all her magic will have tried everything possible to keep her alive, it shouldn't have worked. She had a ridiculously low blood count. I mean lower than I've ever seen in anyone still breathing. No one should survive that. We need to know if anything happened that could have let this happen.'

'Does it actually matter?' George asked.

'To us it does, Mister Weasley. At the minute she's a medical mystery and we need to understand. The only thing we can think of is some kind of life bond.'

'Life bond?' Ron asked, but he knew the others were wondering the same.

'Where one witch or wizard uses the life energy of another witch or wizard to maintain their life when they would otherwise die.'

'Are you channelling my girlfriend, Healer…'

'Healer Burdess. And, sorry?'

George smirked. 'Sorry, nothing, it's just Hermione would've spouted a definition like that just as quickly as you did.'

The Healer smiled but it soon faded.

'Did anything happen that might have triggered this type of magic. It didn't have to be intentional. If… if there's a bond of friendship or love that exists and one act of kindness happens that is somewhat mutual... things like this can't happen if it's what the parties involved wouldn't have wanted.'

Ron took a deep breath and looked at George and then Harry. 'So something had to happen, that involved some sort of mutual love that could have transferred some of my life force to Hermione to keep her alive. Because there is no other way she could be alive, yeah?'

The Healers all nodded.

He saw it all again.

'Ron, you can't help me, just do me one favour.'

'Any...anything,' he said through the sobs that were making him shake violently.

'Give a dying g...girl one last... kiss.'

'That'll be when I kissed her then.'

George

It felt like the air had been sucked out the room. He saw in his peripheral vision a couple of the Healers shuffle uncomfortably. He guessed that most of them would be aware of the Weasley/Granger/Weasley/Potter situation. They would have had to have been on the other side of the world and not in contact with anyone from the magical world to miss the headlines when that story broke.

He was a little confused and wasn't sure how to feel. Should he be angry at his brother for kissing his girlfriend, or should he be thanking him for saving her life.

'Well, this is slightly uncomfortable!' he said with a smirk.

'She asked me to. Asked me to give a girl her dying wish and kiss her one last time.'

The concept of Hermione knowing – as far as she was concerned – that she was dying made his stomach clench and his heart ache. He should have been there at that moment. But he wasn't, Ron was.

'She er… she knew she was dying?' he asked, the wobble in his voice obvious.

Ron nodded. I think so. She gave me messages to tell people, but I don't have to now, do I?'

Ron looked at the Healers.

'We’ve replenished her blood and cleaned her wound. There's no sign of infection and there was no oxygen starvation because she kept breathing. There's no reason why she shouldn’t make a full recovery, she's already making progress and looking better.'

'So, er…' he said, not quite sure what he wanted to ask, only that he needed answers to something. He started his sentence again. 'Er… so, what does this mean? They're connected by Ron's life force because he kissed her when she was about to die, yes?'

'Presumably,' Healer Burdess replied.

'So what now? Is she permanently connected to Ron? Or has she just borrowed some of his life force and can pay it back over time at a decent interest rate?'

Ron snorted but there was no smile on his face. George glared at him but he wasn't exactly sure why.

'We er… we don't know exactly.'

'Oh, well, never mind, we'll just carry on as usual and see what happens, shall we?' George replied, sarcasm dripping from his words.

'This is old magic that isn't healing magic, this is the first time any of us have ever seen it in this hospital. As far as we know it's only happened four times in the history of the place. Miss granger is the fifth. It's that unknown, the standard textbooks for Healer training give it three lines of explanation. It's just that unknown.'

'Okay, we get it, it's rare, but it's happened now and we need to understand it. Who can help us do that?'

Healer Burdess took a deep breath.

'We are obliged to report any case of this type to the Department of Mysteries. Once it's handed over to them we aren't allowed to take things any further, unless of course it is imperative in regards to our patients' health. Seeing as though Miss Granger is on the mend, we won't hear anything more on this, unless any of their findings is made public. I don't think that's happened since 1971.'

'April fourteenth, 1971 to be precise,' Harry said.

'Swat,' Ron replied with a small smile.

Healer Burdess smiled and turned to Ron.

'Mister Weasley, I don't believe you've been checked over, apart from your obvious injuries,' his eyes glanced over the cuts and bruises on his face and his hand, 'we do, of course, need to keep an eye on you because of what's happened.' Ron nodded.

'You really have no idea what's going to happen to me or Hermione?'

Healer Burdess took a deep breath. 'We think there a few things that could happen. It could be as if you gave her the energy and healing power she needed and when she stopped needing it the… connection, I suppose, broke and that's the end of it. There'll be no further complications, you just gave Miss Granger what she needed to survive. The second way we see this happening, is that she still might be… I'll use the word connect because it's easier to explain, she'll remain connected to you for a bit longer, until she's fully recovered, and again, there'll be no further complications.'

Ron looked as the Healer shuffled, looking a little uncomfortable and took yet another deep breath.

'And the third,' Ron prompted, knowing he might not like what he was about to hear.

'There's… there's the possibility that you and Miss Granger will be connected for years to come, if not for the rest of your lives. If that's the case then there are a few things that could happen. This… this may not be easy to hear, but as I said, it might not even end up this way. In it's extreme case, Miss Granger might continue to need you and your life energy to continue living. If that's the case then if you were ever to get ill, then she might and if you were to, well, die, then there's the possibility that she might die too. But that's the extreme case, there's every possibility in between, but… we need you to understand how serious this could be.'

Ron nodded but didn't say anything.

'Obviously if we check you over and carry out some tests we could start to determine if there still is a connection between the two of you, but initially I just want to make sure you're okay and aren't hiding any unseen injuries from the explosion and the spells you were put under.

Ron nodded again. 'Yeah, sure. Um, could you just give us ten minutes or so, please? I think we need a few minutes just to take all that in. I promise I won't run off and leave you without having examined me.'

Healer Burdess smiled and nodded and herded the other three Healers out the door. 'You can stay in here if you want, just lock the door and I'll enchant it so no one interrupts you.

'Thank you, we appreciate it,' Ron replied with a smile. He stood and shook Healer Burdess's hand and locked the door after he left.

Well, he thought, this is going to be an interesting ten minutes!

George

'Before we go down the medical discussion route,' George said looking at the floor and avoiding both Ron and Harry's gaze, 'I'm going to have to be the immature one here and ask: Ron, you kissed Hermione? I know I should be able to just walk right past this fact and concentrate on the other medical crap, but I just can't. I'm sorry. And in all fairness, I bet Harry's dying to ask the same thing.'

Harry glared at him but he didn't care.

'Sit there and tell me it's not true!' he said to Harry, obviously irritated.

Harry shrugged. 'I suppose it wouldn't hurt to talk about it.'

George couldn't help but snort at Harry's very woolly response to his comment. Ron slumped down the door and sighed.

'I'll always love her, you know that. Just like she'll always love me. And when someone you love knows she's dying and asks you to give her one last kiss, you don't say no. You give her what she wants. It doesn't mean she loves you any less,' he raised his hand to George,' or that I love you any less,' he briefly looked at Harry before looking back at the floor, 'I was just, granting her dying wish. You would've… if you'd been in my shoes you would have done exactly the same thing, I know that and you know that, so can we just accept it, be happy that she's alive for what ever reason and just concentrate on getting her well again?'

George had listened intently, and found himself getting less annoyed and angry as Ron spoke. Ron was right; he would have done the same thing.

He nodded. 'You're right. Just, Harry, don't go dying on me and ask me for that as you're dying wish. Please.'

Eventually Harry raised a smile and nodded.

'You're sure you're okay?' Ron asked him and Harry.

Again George nodded. 'Thinking about it, I'd've been devastated if you hadn't. It's Hermione, of course you were going to kiss her if she asked you. It's fine. Really. Promise. And, you know, you saved her life with it, so thanks!'

Ron smiled and looked at Harry. 'It's Hermione!' Harry replied. 'Of course it's okay. It's like George said. I'd've been annoyed if you'd denied her the one thing she wanted as she thought she was dying. It's… don't even think about it as an issue.'

Ron nodded. 'Thanks.'

And then he burst into tears. George looked at him and watched as Harry crossed the room and fell on his knees next to him. Ron clung on to Harry and Harry kissed his hair and held him to comfort him. George felt like a spare part and decided he would try his luck at seeing Hermione. He got up and Harry looked at him. Harry managed to manoeuvre a still sobbing Ron out of the way of the door and as he unlocked the door and walked through it, he squeezed Ron's shoulder.

'Stop feeling guilty,' he said and locked the door behind him.

Harry

He was finally in his arms. For a few split seconds throughout the day he had thought this was never going to happen again. Those moments had been brief but had still hurt and sent dread poring through him. He needed Ron and he had told him many a time. Every time he did Ron never seemed to believe him, seemed to shrug the comment off like Harry was talking rubbish.

'Ron…'

Ron continued to sob into his shoulder.

'Ron, come on, breathe properly or you're going to hyperventilate.'

Ron nodded and pulled back, looking at the ceiling and trying to calm his breathing down.

'S…sorry… s'just…' he hiccupped, 'I sh…should've-'

'Ron, you did everything as you and Hermione had planned. You were going in there to try and talk him out. There was evidence that he would be willing to trade names for a reduced sentence and we needed those names. No one could've known that he had those jars of explosives in there. Anyone going in would have faced the same. And you saved her life, Ron! You saved her.'

'If I h…hadn't insis…ted on her being the… the one who came w…with me!'

'No, Ron, she insisted she be the one who went with you. You took some persuading to let her go with you, but eventually you saw, as did the rest of us, that it made the most sense for Hermione to be the one to go on this mission with you. The guilt has to stop, Ron. Okay?'

He pushed Ron away from him and lifted his head so he had no choice but to look at him.

'Okay?' he asked once more.

'Okay.'

Harry held Ron tightly for a few minutes until he had calmed down.

'God, I missed you,' he whispered. He hadn't meant to sound so needy, but at this moment in time, still sitting on the floor of a hospital consultant he didn't care.

He rested his forehead against Ron's.

'Missed you, too,' Ron whispered. He tilted his head and their lips met. Harry tried to keep his urgency out of the kiss, but he couldn't. He sucked on Ron's lips and nudged at them with his tongue. He noticed Ron was a little hesitant, but then opened his mouth and their tongues met. Ron' hesitancy disappeared and the kiss became frantic, Harry was slightly taken aback but understood that this was what Ron needed; to feel alive and to know he was loved and Harry needed to be the person who could give him those feelings back.

George

He knew that they had said she was recovering well, and that it was only a matter of time before she would wake up, but he still held his breath as she blinked again and again and tried to focus her eyes. He stood up when her brow furrowed, obviously confused.

'Hermione,' he said in the quietest voice he could manage so to not scare her. 'Hermione, can you hear me?'

Her eyes found his and she blinked a few more times.

'Geor… George?'

'It's me, I'm here.'

'But how…? What? Where am I?'

'You're in St. Mungo's and you're going to be fine.'

She frowned at him. 'But I… I…' Her right hand covered her eyes and her breathing rate increased. 'I… died!'

She started to cry and he quickly sat himself on the edge of the bed and took her hand from over her eyes.

'Hey, come on, Hermione. You're alive and you're going to be fine in a few hours. There's nothing to cry about. You're safe now.'

Hermione shook her head and opened her eyes. 'No, y…you don't un…understand. I… died, George.' She swallowed and seemed to calm herself down. 'I knew it was my time, I shut my eyes but instead of it being black, it was all white. There… there were shadows around me, not scary ones or menacing ones, helpful ones that were guiding me forwards. I was… I was moving on and I was scared but I knew it was okay. There was something in the distance and I knew I had to walk towards whatever it was, but then there was… pain. As if someone had reached into my chest and grabbed hold of my heart and squeezed it. I was being dragged backwards and then… then it all went black… I… I really… I died.'

George couldn't do anything but nod. There was a huge lump in his throat and he didn't want Hermione to see him cry. Eventually he coughed and managed to swallow his emotion.

'The Healers… well, the Healers said you should be dead. You had a ridiculously low amount of blood in your body and they'd never seen someone still alive with that little before. They were amazed. Glad, obviously, but very confused.'

'So… then how am I still alive?'

George smiled. 'Because of a very sweet gesture and your dying wish!' he watched as Hermione tried to work out what he was talking about. 'When Ron kissed you he… he gave you some of his life energy, or life force if you want and you took that and that's how you're still alive.' He wanted to continue, to tell her that there might be consequences to Ron's selfless act, but he didn't want to overwhelm her with information mere minutes after she'd woken up.

'I… I took some of Ron's life energy because he kissed me, and that's what saved me?'

George nodded, not wanting to stop Hermione's train of thought that she had to go through.

'How…? What…? How is that even possible?' She ended her sentence and shuffled into a seating position, wincing slightly and putting her hand to her side.

'Careful!' George exclaimed. Hermione nodded but still looked determined to get some answers. George had no problem with this, apart from the fact that he didn't have any solid answers, just woolly possibilities.

'It's very old magic, and can only happen between to people who would want this to happen, or rather the giver has to want it on a subconscious level, otherwise it wouldn't happen at all. Ron needed to, well, need you to stay alive… and he did.'

'So… so…'

George smiled at her. 'Is there an end to that sentence. Or even a beginning or middle?'

She smiled. His heart leapt, that was what he had been waiting for since she woke up. He looked at her and just needed to hold her, and tell her he loved her.

'So, what now? Are there complications? Side effects? Long term problems to this?'

He took a deep breath. 'Hermione, they're not sure but honestly, I don't care at the minute. The only thing I can think about is the fact that you're alive and sitting in front of me… I nearly lost you. You said it yourself, you died. I don't know what I would have done had he not dragged you back to the land of the living. I just… it's not even worth…'

He had talked himself in to the thoughts that had haunted him since he got Harry's note. His upset and fear overwhelmed him once more and tears fell from his eyes.

'Come here,' Hermione whispered. He shuffled closer to her and she wrapped her arms around him.

'S…sorry…' he said through his sobs. 'I'm… I'm the one s…supposed to be comforting… y… you.'

He felt her chuckling.

'Well, we never really did things the right way, did we?' she asked before kissing his hair.'

'Suppose not.'

She pulled back from him and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'Like you said, I'm here and I'm alive. We're not entirely sure how, or what will happen because of it, but I'm alive. So this stops, okay?'

George nodded and sniffed. 'Okay. And if you could tell no one about this, I'll love you forever.'

'You say you'll do that anyway,' she said with a smile.

'Do I? I don't remember saying that!'

She swatted him on the arm and then winced as her side twinged again.

'Probably best to get some rest, eh?' he said as he got up off the bed and tucked Hermione in.

'George…' she said timidly.

'Yeah?'

'You don't mind… that Ron kissed me, or rather, that I asked him to kiss me?' she didn't meet his eyes all through the sentence.

He sat back on the edge of the bed.

'Of course I don’t mind,' he said with a smile. 'I've already told him that I'd've been ridiculously angry with him if he hadn't, even without the weird, bonding magic, thing.'

She nodded her head. 'I gave him a message to give to you, did he?'

He shook his head. 'No, he told me you'd told him what to say to various people but the messages have stayed with him.'

'Good, it was the most unoriginal message in the world, but there's only a couple of things you want the people closest to you to know, and they're not original concepts, I'm afraid.'

George nodded and stood once more. He leant forwards and gave her a kiss.

'Get some rest, okay?' he said with a smile. 'I'll send Ron up in a bit, I think he wants to see you, is that okay?'

'Please do.' She yawned and snuggled under the covers. 'Love you, see you later.'

'See you later, gorgeous.'

Hermione

She had just woken up after a long rest and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. As she looked around for a clock her eyes fell on the glass in the door and she saw Ron peering in.

She smiled and waved him in. He opened the door and stepped in, looking a little nervous.

'Hi,' he said as he walked towards her.

'Hi,' she replied with a smile.

'I don't think I'm supposed to be in here, a Mediwitch just gave me a really scary look as she walked past me.' He sat on the seat next to the bed.

'Well, I want you here and technically you're a patient, too, so they can hardly throw you out the building, can they?'

Ron smiled. 'I suppose not. He played with the hospital wrist band that had been put on his arm by a fierce looking Healer before he had chance to protest.

'So... how are you feeling?' he asked her.

She nodded and sat herself up in bed. 'Better actually, I think the sleep I just had helped me get some energy back.'

'That's good,' he replied.

She tilted her head to get a better look at him. He was looking at his hands and nowhere else.

'Ron, what's wrong?' she asked not knowing if he was going to answer her truthfully or not.

'Nothing! Why?'

'Because you haven't looked at me properly since you walked in. Why can't you look at me properly?'

'Because I don't want to see you being angry at me.'

'Why on earth would I be angry with you? You saved my life, Ron, I'm anything but angry at you! I owe you so much and...'

She had no idea why tears were burning her eyes. She was alive and she was very happy about that fact. She'd thought she would never see any of her friends or family again. Well, in this world, she presumed she would see them all eventually, but she didn't want the long and lonely wait until that time.

The tears fell from her eyes and she brought her knees up to her chest as best she could with the multitude of blankets that were covering her.

Ron looked up at her and instantly stood up.

'Hey, that's not allowed.' He sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around her the best he could. She put her legs down and he gathered her to him. 'I don't like you upset,' he whispered.

'S...sorry...' she managed to reply.

'It's me that should be sorry, I dragged you to that-'

'Don't you dare!' she said, her voice suddenly strong. 'I've told you I was there because I wouldn't let anyone else do that job. I told George the same thing and he was intelligent enough to not argue with me. You were too, before all this. Nothing's changed.'

Ron nodded. 'Okay, I'll stop going on about it if you tell me what's wrong.'

She pulled back but he kept hold of her hands. 'I just... I thought I was dying and thought I'd never see you again... well until...' she waved her hand above them and Ron seemed to understand exactly what she meant. 'Seeing everyone again... it's just a little overwhelming when your last thoughts were off death. But then you brought me back, and now I owe you my life.'

Ron shook his head. 'No, you don't. I can cope with all this medical crap and the not knowing what the bond magic entails as long as you promise that you're not going to feel like you're indebted to me for the rest of your life. That I can't do. We go on as before, maybe checking the other feels okay a bit more than usual...' she smiled and he chuckled. 'But otherwise, everything stays the same. The whole thing wouldn't have worked had I not needed you to stay alive. That's how it works! If someone had stood in front of me while I held you in my arms and asked if I'd trade some of my life force to give to you so you could live, I wouldn't have had to even think about the answer. It would have fallen out my mouth before I'd had chance to think, and by the time I'd thought about it, I'd still say the same thing.'

Hermione wanted to say something, but knew Ron needed to say more. She could read his face and knew he was battling with the words inside his head and whether he should say them or not. She waited for the outcome of the internal battle.

'I know we're not... involved anymore, but I still love you and I need you in my life. It's selfish, I know, but I don't care. I love Harry with all my heart, of course I do, and I intend to spend the rest of my life with him. But if you're not there as well, I may as well not be alive. You could say I saved your life because it was a selfish act. I don't care, though. You're here and that's all that matters. I just hope that you're okay with that...'

He had talked himself out. She kissed his hand and smiled at him. 'After a speech like that I can hardly say no, can I?'

He smiled.

'Just so you know, Ron, I would have done the exact same thing. It wouldn't have even needed a conscious decision. For you, I would have traded some of my life for yours if it meant you lived to make me laugh and annoy me chronic even just one more time. We don't know how this will affect us, but I promise I won't keep harping on about it, or make you feel like you did anything ridiculously heroic, even though you did, if that's what you want. We'll deal with this together... and you know, I suppose we better let Harry and George help us deal with it, too, or they might get a little annoyed.'

Ron laughed out loud and she chuckled.

'Yeah probably best for both of us.'

'Probably. Oh...'

'Oh?'

'There's a Healer looking through the door and he looks really quite annoyed.'

'Ah, shit. I think I was due for some test or other. Arse. Ah well.'

He stood and looked down on her. He kissed her on the forehead and she winked at him. He grinned and she watched as he walked towards the irate Healer.

'Ron?'

He turned and looked at her. 'Yeah?'

'Please don't wind him up too much. If he kills you chances are I'll die too and I'll have the whole of eternity to torment you!'

She laughed at his horror struck look but then he relaxed and smiled.

'You bloody well would as well!'

She leant back against her pillows and grinned at him.

'For you, Hermione, I shall try and not be killed by this irate Healer, here. And I shall see you later to tell you exactly what tests they're going to do on you and shall relish very moment! See you later!'

'See you later,' she replied, and then laughed as the door opened and the Healer started throwing very long words at Ron which he waved away with his hand.

She closed her eyes and thought about Ron and about George.

Things never work out the way you think they will she mused. She decided this was a good thing, it kept you on your toes and let you appreciate everything you had. She had George and she loved him, but she still had Ron, despite everything they had been through, she still had him as a shoulder to cry on and someone to annoy her when she was too uptight to get anything done. She needed them both and she had them both.

From this day on she wouldn't take either of them for granted.

From this day on, she would live like each kiss was her last.

fin

A Love That Runs So Deep | Rated: T | Hr/G & H/R

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 20:22:49 GMT

Title: A Love that Runs So Deep
Author/Artist: thesteppyone
Gift For: redhedsarehot
Rating: R for language
Featured Character or Pairing(s): Harry/Ron, Hermione/George, past Ron/Hermione which is mentioned a lot.
Summary: Ron and Hermione's mission goes horribly wrong and serious complications arise. How will they and Harry and George cope with their capture, and the aftermath?
Warnings: Serious injury, swearing, angst
Word Count:Many words... ~16,000. Kinda got away from me a little...
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a car. Oh, and a bike. No copyright infringement is intended, I own none of the names, places, characters or spells you recognise. I'm just playing in the sandbox, all shall be exactly as it was, when I leave :)
Author's notes: So It says Harry/Ron but this Is me, so of course It's all about the Ron/Hermione… :D

A Love that Runs So Deep: Part 1

Ron

The explosion shook every bone in his body. His brain rattled against his skull and he was vaguely aware that he was in pain. A hot, sticky substance was running down the back of his throat and he had to cough to get rid of it from his lungs. When he did, red spatters covered his hand.

It was then that Ron came back to himself. He remembered where he was, what he was supposed to be doing and whom he was with.

He was on a mission with work, and he was in Swindon. Stanton Fitzwarren to be exact, in one of the farm buildings to the north of the village. Well, he had been in one of the farm buildings, until they had turned and fled, throwing themselves towards the big iron doors. They knew it was too late but still they ran. It was the only thing they could do.

He saw the whole thing in his mind again, the wizard they had been observing for the previous five hours smiling and laughing manically at them, their words doing nothing to either calm him or get him to stop pointing his wand at the gas canisters that were neatly stacked against the far wall, next to bottles of something that he didn't recognise, but that Hermione had told him would explode should the wizard choose to do what he was threatening.

Wait... Hermione!

'Hermione!' he managed to croak out, smoke had filled his lungs and he was struggling to breathe but he didn't care, he had to find her. Dust filled the air, which made seeing anything impossible. He fumbled in his robes for his wand, but to his dismay he couldn't find it. He guessed flying through the air and landing in a very undignified heap twenty feet from where you set off, would dislodge a small stick of wood from your pocket. This fact didn't stop him needing it, though.

'Hermione!' he called again, hoping for some kind of noise, anything that would help him get to her and then get them out of there.

Somewhere they technically shouldn't have been, but he had insisted they go, because he knew that they would find evidence, plots, plans and most importantly, the wizard behind everything.

He coughed again, ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth and at the back of his throat. The dull throbbing pain in his nose reassured him that it was probably that that was causing the blood and not anything more serious. He hoped so, anyway.

He crawled forwards, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of movement or light and his hands feeling the ground for anything that resembled his or anyone else's wand.

His fingertips brushed a thin piece of wood, which wasn't entirely smooth. His mind's eye showed him Hermione's wand, with the intricate carvings on the handle, which faded as they got nearer the tip. His head was screaming at him to take the wand, but he knew that Hermione had been holding her wand when she was running, knew that the last thing Hermione would do would be to let go of her wand if she was still conscious as she was thrown across the building. That left him with two possibilities: Hermione and her wand had been separated because she had been rendered unconscious and therefore wasn't capable of keeping hold of her wand, or Hermione had managed to keep hold of her wand while conscious and had passed out on the floor because of the state she was in and was, therefore, lying mere inches from him.

He had closed his eyes, but forced himself to open them.

And that's when he saw Hermione lying, battered, bruised and bleeding with her hand still tightly gripped around her wand, barely breathing.

At this sight he started to panic.

George

The pounding in George's head intensified when he cracked open his left eye, the sunlight around him adding to the pain.

'Phlergle'

Not entirely sure where that half arsed attempt at speaking had come from - either his brain or an involuntary spasm from his vocal chords - he cleared his throat. He then tried again to open his eyes without causing his pounding head to pound harder. As it happened it didn't get any worse when he opened his eye and rolled backwards a bit so he could open his other eye as well, for this he was thankful.

He inhaled deeply and instantly pulled his face at the smell of stale alcohol in the room. Leaving an open, half empty bottle of beer on his floor – right in the middle of his floor, he noted in his half asleep state – had not been the best of ideas. Then again, better open and half empty than spilled all over his cream carpet. Cleaning spells only worked to a certain extent on carpet and he didn't fancy scrubbing on his hands and knees today.

He rolled over and let his arm flop on to the mattress. Or rather what was on top of the mattress. He frowned and then turned to see the dreadlocks he knew so well.

'Bloody hell, Lee! You could at least ask next time you want to share my bed! It's only polite!'

Lee Jordan didn't move, still fast asleep and lightly snoring. George decided that seeing as though he was awake, and the time was – he lifted his head a few inches off the mattress to look at his alarm clock on his bedside table – half nine, he should get up and not waste the day entirely, despite the fact that he was hung over. This wouldn't be a problem for long, however, he had plenty of potions downstairs to alleviate all his symptoms from drinking too much.

He stumbled out of bed, narrowly missing smacking his little toe on his boots and just missing the half empty, open bottle of beer on his floor. After brushing his teeth, washing his face and – very carefully – shaving off his two day old stubble, he went downstairs, still in his boxers and t-shirt and took the combination of potions that Fred had stumbled upon by complete accident, and smiled as he felt the ache in his head, his dizziness and general feeling of bleurgh disappear.

As the effects of the small amount of Invigorating potion he had just taken ran through his veins, he grinned and looked forward to what the day would bring.

Granted the day wouldn't go exactly as he would like, as there would be one person missing from whatever he ended up doing. And that person was Hermione Granger. His girlfriend. His girlfriend, Hermione.

At one point in his life, that idea would have seemed the most ridiculous thing in the world, and she would have thought that too. But it was strange the way things turned out. Never would he have thought that he would have lost his twin in a fierce battle at his old school, and never would he have thought that after some very interesting revelations would he end up being the one thing Hermione Granger needed: Comfort. He thought it was a one-way thing; him helping her to get over something that had turned her world upside down, but really they were helping each other heal from wounds that neither of them expected, or knew how to face on their own.

But that was beside the point, it was a new day, he was no longer hung over – although he knew he had to keep drinking water throughout the day to re-hydrate himself – Lee could find his own way out of George's flat so he didn't have to wait until he surfaced, so the day was definitely his own.

Now all he had to do was think of something to do.

Hermione

She could hear words and the sound of them was familiar. There was something else she could feel but she didn't know what that was either. She was aware of her body, that much she knew. Her arms and legs felt heavy, like she would never have the strength to lift them again. The thought of trying to lift her head felt like the last thing she would ever be able or would want to do, it was hurting that much.

When she realised this, the understanding that that other feeling was excruciating pain overwhelmed her. It was this that made her open her eyes.

There was someone above her, and it took her a few seconds to realise it was Ron. There were tears in his eyes and there was blood smeared across his face. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know who's it was.

'R…Ron…'

She cried out as the pain in her stomach worsened.

'I'm s…sorry, Hermione, I have to push on it, you're bleeding and I have to m…make it stop.'

Gathering all her strength she lifted her head a couple of inches off the floor and looked down at her stomach. All she could see was red and Ron's hands covering her skin.

'What…what's wrong with… m…me?' she asked, trying desperately hard not to panic.

'I…I think you were hit by some flying metal or something. There's a good chunk of it h…here.' She followed the waving piece of metal in front of her face and then followed Ron's hand as he put it on the floor. Anything to not look at herself and the blood, which was spattered over Ron.

'I n…need to apparate us out of here, Hermione, and that means I have to lift you up which'll h…hurt like hell but I h…have too. OK? I have your wand so I'll be fine. I'll get us safe and somewhere you can be treated for this. But it's… it's gonna hurt like hell for a little bit, yeah?'

Hermione felt tears run down her face into her hair. She nodded and closed her eyes. She took a couple of deep breaths and she heard Ron shuffling around her. She felt his hands push under her back and her legs.

'Ready? I'll stand up on three. One. Two-.'

'Expelliarmus!'

Hermione wrenched her eyes open and found the source of the hoarse voice,
which had disarmed Ron. It was the wizard who had just blown them up.

'Well, isn't this sweet?' the wizard wheezed, as he pointed both Hermione's and his own wand towards them. 'Don't either of you move, if you do, I'll curse you into more pain than you've ever experienced.'

She was surprised to hear Ron snort at that comment. 'Please, you have no idea what we've been through before now, I'd like to see you try!'

She knew it had been the wrong thing for Ron to say, and her fears were confirmed when Ron started screaming in agony, as the Cruciatus curse filled every fibre of his being.

The screaming stopped and she tried to reach out towards Ron, to make sure he was fine. She didn't doubt he could handle the curse under normal circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances.

'Well, that seemed to shut him up, didn't it, my darling?'

'I'm not… y…your d…darling.'

'Well, well, well! Still feisty even though it looks like you're bleeding to death!'

'Well, well, well! Aren't w…we the m…melodramatic one! F…first explosions, then over…exaggerating!'

The wizard threw his head back and laughed out loud. A second later there was rage in his eyes and Hermione's own wand was pointed at herself.

'We'll have no more smart words from you, darling!'

The wand movement was swift and the red spell took her consciousness from her.

Harry

Harry Potter heard the chattering of his Godson long before he was content to open his eyes. He knew it would be far earlier than he would like to be awake, but he also knew that this was one of the perils of looking after a three and a half year old.

He didn’t mind, of course. Teddy was his Godson and he loved spending time with him. He had inherited the calm nature of Remus and Tonks' cheery nature, which made him a delight to look after. Most of the time.

Soon enough the door to his bedroom was opened and he heard the frantic attempts of a toddler climbing up onto his bed.

'Unca Harry!' You 'wake?'

'Nope! Definitely not awake.'

Teddy giggled and Harry couldn't help but smile.

'I'm hungry. Is it food time?'

'Yeah, I suppose, what do you want for breakfast?'

'Um…'

Teddy thought about his choices for a good thirty seconds, in which time Harry managed to doze off.

'I think…' Harry opened his eyes and remembered he was supposed to be listening intently to Teddy. 'I think I want some Shooting Stars…'

'Are you sure?'

Teddy continued to think for another few seconds then nodded his head frantically.

'Ok, go and get your bowl and your spoon and I'll come and get your breakfast.'

'Okay!'

Teddy jumped off the bed, narrowly missing the bedside table. Teddy Lupin did happen to inherit his Mother's clumsiness; Harry just hoped he wouldn't have to repeat the trip to St. Mungo's he did last time he babysat his Godson.

'Unca Harry! I can't reach my bowl!'

Harry chuckled and threw the covers off himself. As he walked through the house to the kitchen and prepared his and Teddy's breakfast – the highly sugared and colourful breakfast cereal that literally sent stars shooting above the surface of the bowl after being covered in milk – he wondered how he would spend the latter half of the day. He had Teddy until lunchtime when he was dropping him back off at Andromeda's house.

Ron wasn't due back until later that night so he had a lot of time to kill. He could go and see George, he knew he was in the same position as him, maybe they could play Quidditch, or just arse around at the Burrow.

Yeah, a lazy day with family sounded good.

Teddy ran into the lounge to watch cartoons leaving Harry to clean up. After a few flicks of his wand he heard the flames in the fireplace roar then die down.

'Unca Harry! There's a letter for you!'

Harry frowned, wondering who was contacting him via the floo. Normally that only happened when there was an emergency at work.

He walked through to the lounge and picked up the slightly smoking scroll of parchment off the floor. He read the text and he shivered, hoping that he had read the words incorrectly.

He hadn't. Something had gone wrong with the mission.

Ron and Hermione were missing.

Ron

Ron had no idea where he was. He had been propped up against a cold, stone wall and he was having trouble holding up his head. If he focussed on the ground in front of him for too long he went dizzy and felt sick. He wasn't sure how long they'd been there, but it had been way too long for his liking.

Hermione was lying a couple of metres away from him, curled up on her side and not moving except for the too rapid breaths she was taking.

He wasn't sure which was worse, being on the outside in a situation like this, not knowing where his people were and frantically trying to find them, feeling helpless with every action he took, or being in the situation and still ending up ridiculously helpless, especially when he can't even focus without feeling the need to throw up.

Come on, Weasley, pull yourself together!

He opened his eyes and put his head back against the wall. He forced himself to look at the bars that closed the far end of the cell. It was a few seconds before he started to feel sick but he swallowed and took a deep breath to keep the nausea at bay. He reached forward and managed to pitch his weight forward. When he was on all fours he kept staring in front of him, managing for the minute to keep his sickness at bay. For something as simple as co-ordinating his left arm and his right leg to move forward at the same time, it was taking far too much effort. He wobbled before he managed to tense his muscles and regain his balance. Slowly he pulled his right arm along the floor with his fingertips and when he was about to lose his balance, pulled his left leg forward.

He carried on in this manner until he was near enough Hermione to lie down next to her. He had no idea what hex had been put on him but he hadn't felt this weak for years. He rolled Hermione on to her back and his heart sank when her eyes stayed shut. If he was truthful with himself he wasn't expecting them to be open. That didn't stop him hoping though.

'Her…Hermione…' he whispered. He regretted opening his mouth as he instantly felt sick. He swallowed and breathed deeply again. 'P… Please… Hermione. Wake… up!' George… he'll kill me if… I d…don't get you h…home tonight. You… you promised him a g… good hard sh…shag!' He thought he was laughing, but he felt hot tears run down his nose and onto the floor and he realised he was shaking and crying. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't breathe properly and he started to feel sick again, he rolled onto his side and managed to crawl a foot away from Hermione, before vomiting onto the cold floor.

Black spots invaded his peripheral vision and he went dizzy again. 'No! No… Need to stay… 'wake…'

Three seconds later he was unconscious.

George

He hadn't meant to end up at the shop. He really had intended to use this day to relax, hence the marathon drinking session the night before. But he just happened to walk past the front door when there was a large bang inside, and he could hardly ignore that, could he?

Well, if he'd really wanted to he could, but he was curious as to what had exploded and in what circumstances. There was also the possibility that he was about to come face to face with a lawsuit so it was probably better to deal with these things now than later and without first hand knowledge of the situation.

As it happened it was all superficial, well, the noise and the soot wasn't, but the actual 'fire' effect was an illusion and he was sure the ringing in the boy's ears would disappear within the hour. Probably. No one was burned and there was definitely no structural damage to the building. Of that he was sure. Obviously the boy's well being was his first priority. After he'd subtly checked the shop out.

After a twenty-minute conversation that only on two occasions had turned into an argument, the family had left with a complimentary bag full of Wheezes products, and a promise of 10% off all merchandise for the next six months. Yes, this could be seen as an admittance of fault, but he had a feeling that the business drawn up by the boy bragging to his friends about how he had caused an explosion in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes would surpass the 10% discount he had promised a rather pissed off and embarrassed father.

Once it was dealt with he carried on in the shop, helping on the shop floor, which he had missed recently. What with inventing new products and looking for new property in various Wizarding towns throughout the country, he hadn't actually done much demonstrating and selling, and he missed it.

Deciding he needed a brew if he intended on carrying on talking for the rest of the afternoon, he went through to the small kitchen in the back room and put the kettle on. Remembering they were running low on Edible Dark Marks he went into the storeroom and found a box on the bottom shelf that had what could be described as a 'caricature' of the dark mark on. As he turned back to the kitchen he noticed a crumpled up and lightly toasted piece of parchment in front of the fireplace. It couldn't have been there long, as it was still smoking slightly.

He tucked the box under his arm, and bent down to pick up the ball of parchment. With one hand he smoothed it out, and then his heart stopped.

Ron and Hermione are missing.

I'm worried. Come to the Auror Office.

Harry

Dropping the box to the floor he sprinted out the shop to apparate to the Ministry. He didn't need telling twice.

Hermione

Hermione was getting worried now. Not only did she know that she hadn't been healed properly and was probably bleeding internally, but now Ron was lying unconscious next to her.

She had woken up and managed to roll onto her back. She wasn't entirely sure if this had been the best thing to do, but she had to do something. Lying down and letting the psycho wizard dictate everything wasn't an option. Unfortunately her injury was slowing her down considerably. Not only did every movement she made hurt her like she was being stabbed, but whatever spell they had put on Ron that had made him throw up had obviously been put on her as well.

Her head swam and she tried to focus on Ron. She shuffled her feet to the right and then managed to push herself off the floor an inch and fall a tiny bit to the side. This hurt her more than she thought and she cried out in pain. Realising that this was not going to be pain free, however she moved, she gritted her teeth and continued to shuffle towards Ron. She gasped and cried out as she did it, but after what seemed like a ridiculously long amount of time, she reached Ron.

She pulled at his shoulder and he rolled on to his back. She held her breath, wanting to hear any noise Ron made. He made none, but she sighed in relief when she saw the rise and fall of his chest. Granted, it wasn't as deep as she'd like, but he was breathing, that had to be something.

'Ron…' she rasped, her throat dry and sore from the smoke from the explosion.

She coughed which hurt her greatly. 'Ron, wake up, please.'

He grunted and she had never heard a more welcome sound.

'Ron! Wake up! Please!'

He groaned again, for a second she smiled, it sounded exactly what Ron waking up in the morning should sound like: him groaning that he doesn't want to get up yet and a 'surely you've woken me up too early' groan. She was then reminded by a shooting pain in her side that they weren't safe and warm at home, and it had been years since she'd heard Ron wake up in a morning.

Her thoughts turned to George, the man she loved and the last person she thought she would and could fall in love with. But she had, and it brought tears to her eyes that she couldn't see him when she needed him the most. Not that that was his fault, after all, he had been the one who had raised his suspicions that she shouldn't be going on this mission. He had argued that there were other people who had more experience who could've gone and questioned why Ron – who had, correctly, followed his instinct – was being given the lead on this mission when he had never been given that honour before.

Hermione had told him not to worry, that she trusted Ron with her life and that they would be fine. They had enough evidence to send the wizard they were pursuing to Azkaban for the rest of his days, but they needed to catch him, and Hermione and Ron had been the ones working on the case for longest and had put the most hours into it. It wasn't often that the two departments worked this close on a case, but in these circumstances, it seemed the best thing to do.

And she still believed that, even though now they were both captured and battered and bruised. She wouldn't have let Ron go on this alone, and he wouldn't have let anyone else accompany him. Harry and George were 'mightily pissed off' as Ron had said, but they had accepted their decision and smiled at them as they left, even if the smiles they had worn hadn't been genuine.

The pain in her side increased as her breathing quickened. She was trying to stay positive and tell herself that they'd get out of wherever they were and back home in one piece, but as every second went by the pain got that little bit worse and she got that little bit weaker. As every second went by she lost that a little bit of hope that she would see George again, kiss him again, tell him she loved him one more time, lie underneath him as he made love to her, and found everything she needed to see in his eyes.

Before she knew it her sobs were shaking her body, making her pain worse but she couldn't stop them. She didn't want to die like this! She had so much more to do with her life. Her and George had so much more to do together. Chances were she wouldn't get to do any of it and she'd die in this cell, another victim of the Death Eaters' second wave of terror since the war.

She started at the hands on her face, pulling her own hands away from her eyes.

'Don't c…cry, Hermione. I'll g…get you out of h…here. Promise…'

She shut her eyes and nodded her head because that's what Ron wanted to see. For him – and herself – she had to stay positive, even if it was the last thing she was feeling at the minute. Their track record was pretty damn good after all. They had survived against the odds on numerous occasions, there was no reason why this time would be any different.

For a second her optimistic side won through, and then the pessimistic half of her brain reminded her she was very seriously injured, still bleeding, wandless and in close proximity to a psycho who had no issue with blowing himself or them up.

She heard Ron shuffling and briefly looked over at him. He was sitting up and trying to bring himself round. She knew the expression on his face and knew that he was determined to do something, even if it came down to making enough noise to get their captor's attention, at least he'd then be doing something. Ronald Weasley was not one to sit about and do nothing. Normally she wasn't, but at the minute there was nothing else she could do.

Harry

'Harry! What the hell happened!'

He had been prepared for this reaction off George, but that didn't prepare him for the irate Weasley brother to come pelting towards him at full speed.

'Where is she?' George shouted in his face.

'I don't know!' Harry replied as calmly as he could. If truth be told he wanted to be shouting and screaming like George was but he would be removed from the department if he did, and that wouldn't help anyone. Some of the other Aurors were looking at George in a disgruntled way, obviously not liking the shouts that were putting them off their work.

'George, you have to calm down, they'll throw you out if you don't.'

'I'd like to fucking well see them try! George growled at Harry.

'George, I swear to Merlin I'll have you thrown out myself if you don't calm down!' George turned red and went to argue with Harry but he cut him off before he had the chance. 'Don't think that because I'm looking calm that I'm not ranting and raving inside. You know exactly how I feel because the person you love is missing, as is the person I love more than anything in the world, so don't stand there and tell me I don't understand! They want me removed from this investigation anyway because they think I'm too involved to be of any use, and if I start yelling and screaming I'll be out that door faster than I can blink. I suggest you take that information on board and do something with it!'

Harry glared at George and didn't blink. After what seemed like forever George looked down and then back at Harry.

'What’s happened to them, Harry?' he asked calmly, although the wobble in his voice was obvious.

Harry took a deep breath. 'There was an explosion, that's all I know. They only found that out a few minutes ago. They went to Ron and Hermione's last known location and it was, well, the building was falling apart and there was traces of Muggle liquid explosives inside. We're presuming they survived the blast because otherwise, well, they'd be there. If they'd been killed by this guy then logically he wouldn't have bothered moving them.'

'Logically? You're using tenuous logic on something as serious as…' George looked around him, very aware that he had raised his voice. 'On something as serious as this! Remind me, Harry, where had this man spent the last three years of his life? I do believe it was on the Psychiatric Wing of St. Mungo's was it not?'

Harry sighed. 'Wait, how did you know he's an ex-Mungo's Psych patient?'

'Hermione told me!'

'Well, she shouldn't have, that was for Ministry Personnel only!'

'Yes, well, I'm sorry for the Ministry that she told me exactly what she was up against, but we don't lie to each other, Harry. She tells me everything and I tell her everything, too. It's called trust.'

'Still, she-.'

'Harry, do you honestly think I'd tell anyone anything she tells me that's to do with work? She tells me because she can't tell anyone else, she has no one else to help her deal with all the shit she goes through. The one person who she could tell everything too decided he loved his best mate more than he did her!'

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. 'Really? You're throwing me and Ron getting together in my face, now? And to be honest, I don't see you complaining that Ron 'decided he loved his best mate more than he did her'! You came out of the whole thing pretty well, I'd say!'

'You little shit! I comforted her when she couldn't even find a reason to go to work anymore! You had each other, Hermione had no one! It was all I could do to give her a reason to get up in the morning!'

Harry had had enough, this was not the time nor the place for this argument. He knew under normal circumstances this conversation would never have seen the light of day, but these were not normal circumstances.

Over the years Harry had decided that he had quite a good gut instinct, and something was screaming at him and telling him that Ron and Hermione were in mortal danger. On that thought he pictured the Weasley clock in his head, and he shuddered at the thought of what it might tell them, and the thought of Molly or Arthur looking at it before anyone could tell her what happened.

'You need to tell your mum and dad what's happened before they look at their clock and…' he couldn't finish the sentence.

George looked taken aback at the fact Harry hadn't taken on their argument any further. Harry looked in to his eyes and tried to tell him that this wasn't what they should be doing, and that they didn't really mean what they'd just said. He hoped George would let it go.

He did.

'What should I tell them?' he asked quietly, his voice breaking. He coughed to cover up the upset in his voice.

'Honestly, I have no idea. Make it quick, though, we're setting off to go to the building he blew up in' he checked his watch, 'eight minutes.'

'Eight minutes! You're giving me eight minutes?'

'Well you can have longer if you don't want to come with us, but it seems a shame to waste this official Ministry card I had made for you so you can accompany us on our little excursion.' He handed the card to George. 'It's up to you, but I can't slow the investigation down.'

'No I… I don't want you to. I'll be back in five minutes.'

Harry nodded and turned away. He started walking to the group of Aurors at the other side of the office who were frantically looking through files to gather that vital piece of information about the man they had been trying to capture to try and work out where he might have taken Auror Weasley and Special Agent Granger.

Harry's head was both empty of any helpful suggestions and full to bursting with possible theories. He needed someone to make him think straight, unfortunately the one person who always managed to do that was one of two people he was looking for.

Ron

He was back sitting against the wall of the cell, but this time Hermione was lying on her back, her head in his lap.

They had been brought food, well, stale bread and water if you could call that food, and they had found out that it was the wizard they had been trying to capture who had imprisoned them. It was he who had brought them the food. Ron didn't like to think of the reasons why he decided they needed to eat something, he despised the idea of being stuck wherever they were, cold, filthy, injured and – he hated himself for thinking it - dying. He wanted to go home to Harry, he wanted to take Hermione home to George and he's rather die sooner rather than later if there was no escape.

A war does finny things to people. All people, not only those in the thick of the action, and Ron was one of the people who came out of the battle with a lack of fear of death. After coming close to death a few times, being tortured both mentally and physically and watching loved ones die, you come to the decision that if it's your time to go, it's your time to go. There were worse things than dying. Dying slowly and painfully being one of them, and as much as he hated to admit it, Hermione wasn't looking good. She was still bleeding, and he knew she was bleeding internally too. She was weak, was in pain and he couldn't help her.

''m sorry,' he said in a whisper.

'What… for?' Hermione replied, her eyes still closed.

'Everything,' he replied, still whispering.

'That's a lot to be sorry for. How about you narrow it down a little.'

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 'Okay, how about, I'm sorry for dragging you here with me. I'm sorry for getting you blown up. I'm sorry for not being able to anything to get you out of here, and I'm sorry for… for hurting you.'

He heard her breath deeply.

'Open your eyes and look at me, Ron.' It was a demand and he did what she said. 'The first three I'm going to ignore because it was my decision to come here, I didn't stop him from blowing us up either and I'm hardly able to get us out of here, so I'd say we're even. As for you hurting me, well, you had to try and stop the bleeding, you were doing-'

'I didn't mean that. I meant when I broke things off. I never wanted to hurt you like that, but I did. You mean more to me than anything and I did that to you. I broke you, Hermione! I didn't see you for days, no one did! I made you feel that bad that every time you saw someone with red hair you hurt!'

He had talked himself into silence.

'Have you finished?' Hermione asked, her tone of voice almost back to normal.

Ron shrugged, unable to do anything else as emotion was choking him. He looked down at her and knew that the small shuffling she was doing reflected her normal drawing herself up to her full height to give her point extra force. This was as good as she could do.

'Firstly, yes you're right, you did hurt me, I thought we would be together for the rest of our lives, but it didn't work out that way. Nothing is set in stone, Ron and I was foolish to believe it was. Secondly, you didn't mean to hurt me, you couldn't help your feelings. It would have been wrong to cheat yourself of what you truly wanted and it would have been wrong to let me live a false life. Thirdly, I've told you this before, stop torturing yourself, and me by going over this. I know normally you would only give these thoughts a fraction of a second a day, and it's only because we're here and trapped that you're letting them consume you, but it stops now. Right? I don't have the energy for this.'

She closed her eyes and calmed her breathing back down. He could see her barrage of words had taken their toll on her, she winced and her hand kept twitching towards her wound.

'How come you let George in?' he asked, needing to know what it was about his brother that made her let down her guard. He pretended that he was keeping her talking to keep her awake, but if he was honest with himself, he was curious as to how she learnt to love again. She had said it herself: she had expected them to be together forever, he couldn't understand how she had let that go.

'Do you really want to carry this conversation on?' Hermione asked. 'Because I will be brutally honest with you, Ron and you might not like what you hear.'

'Fine.'

'Because George was everything you wasn't. Well, as much as he can be and still be a Weasley. He had lost his way and was finding a way back, he knew – to an extent – what I was feeling and, honestly… at first I knew it would wind you up something chronic to be talking to one of your brothers and not thrashing things out with you. I knew it wound you up that I hadn't flown off the handle in front of you and had just calmly walked away when you told me how things were between you and Harry, this would take things one step further.'

'So… wait, you used George? Hermione, that's…'

'Sick? Bitter? Twisted? Unfair? Not like me at all? That's right and that's probably why I was doing it.'

'Did George… does George know?'

Hermione smirked. 'Of course he does! He worked out I was trying my hardest to wind you up and understood why.'

'And he was okay with that?'

He was shouting now and he didn't care, Hermione had just turned into someone he didn't like. It was very disturbing.

'At first he didn't seem that bothered. He was still at a loose end, the shop was being looked after but the staff, he didn't have the inspiration or the want to invent knew products on his own and he had told people he wanted to 'live a little' before settling back down into normal life. What no one but a few people heard in that waffle of a sentence was that he had no idea how he was going to carry on without Fred. Even six months later all the 'living' he was doing was living a little to close to the pub of an evening and living through one too many hangovers.'

'But he… he didn't, we didn't notice him drinking! Well, not excessively!'

'That's because he and Fred had perfected the exact combination of potions to cure a hangover and he went about his days as everyone expected him to. Actually you dumping me and me needing someone to wind you up actually helped him. He had someone to visit who was suffering like he was. We talked a lot.'

Ron's was reeling slightly. Finding out his ex-girlfriend had been using his brother to get back at him, with his brother knowing perfectly well what was going on was baffling him and rather unsettling.'

'So your relationship is based on some twisted game you were playing that he was in on?'

Why he was getting angry he didn't know.

Hermione glared at him.

'No. Our relationship is based on trust, and friendship. When the light goes out at the end of the tunnel, a friend will hand you a torch. George was the one who gave me a torch and enough batteries to last as long as I needed.'

He fell silent, a little embarrassed that he had insinuated their relationship was in any way unhealthy.

'You did have a wand, you know! They don't need batteries!'

He was glad he could still make her smile.

George

'I shouldn't have let her go!' he growled as he paced around the farm building. 'I should have locked her inside the shop without her wand.'

'And lost your girlfriend in the process.'

'At least she'd be safe! How could I have let her go?' he shouted. The words echoed around the building and that seemed to bring him from himself.

The trip home had been, well, horrible. Seeing his mum and his dad fight back tears was not something he would ever get used to. They had agreed to stay at home for the time being with the small hope that Ron and Hermione would magically turn up there. But he knew it probably wouldn't be too long until he had to face them again.

'So, say you would have locked her in the flat, then what would've happened?'

'What? What's that got to do with-'

'Just humour me and answer the question.'

He glared at Harry but decided to answer him.

'She would have shouted at me, and I probably would have left to stop the shouting, but I would have made sure she was safely locked inside first!'

He half cringed at what he had said, but it didn't stop it being true.

'And you don't think she would have got out the flat somehow and got herself where she needed to be for that mission?'

'If I'd taken her wand then-'

'May I remind you she is Muggleborn and knows how to pick locks and you know, throw heavy things at breakable glass.'

'The windows are charmed!' George shouted somewhat triumphantly.

'To stop things breaking from the outside, in, not the inside, out. Safety first, George!'

He wilted. He had momentarily forgotten his and Fred's safety feature for the flat. When you're doing some impromptu inventing in your lounge, you want to be able to leave the area as quickly as possible, should anything unexpected happen. Breakable glass – from the inside only – was one of the safety features they had installed.

'George, she would have got out the flat, she would have got her spare wand, she would have been beyond apoplectic with rage at you and we'd still be in this situation. At least this way you're still in her good books.'

'Doesn't stop me feeling guilty, though.'

'Nope, believe me when I say I know how you feel.'

They stood in silence for a bit. George needed to keep moving so he walked a few paces one way, then turned sharply in another direction, before doing the same again. His thoughts wandered, yet again, to Hermione and how she still wasn't safe and warm at home. He had no idea what he would do if-

His foot skidded on something round. When he had regained his balance he looked down at the offending object. His heart jumped into his mouth when he recognised the wand as Ron's.

After a second's thought he realised he shouldn't be surprised by this, if he'd had his wand, or Hermione's, then they would have heard something at the very least. Still seeing something of Ron's was quite a shock.

'His wand,' he said, emotion filling his voice.

'What?' Harry exclaimed as he ran towards George.

George nodded to the wand on the floor. Harry bent down and picked up his wand. George looked at him and looked away when he saw tears glisten in Harry's eyes. He kept getting so lost in his own sorrow and loss that he forgot that Harry was suffering in exactly the same way and his attitude was doing nothing to help.

He put his hand on his shoulder and forced himself to look at Harry.

'They'll be fine, Harry. They're survivors. You're the one who dies, remember?'

And people thought that Fred was the joker in the family.

Hermione

She really hadn't meant to go on at Ron, or go on about how her and George started out. Not that she was ashamed about what had happened, it just wasn't something she wanted the whole world knowing. People had raised eyebrows when her and George had started to be seen 'together' in public. Granted the eyebrows didn't raise as high as they did when it became public news that Harry and Ron were together, but still she could have done without the people needing to know about her private life.

She hadn't meant to hurt Ron with her words. She didn't want to hurt him at all any more. At one point she idd, she wanted to break his heart like he had hers, and the mind games at the beginning were part of that. But from there she moved on and found George and everything he had to offer. It was amazing what you missed in a family when you only had eyes for one part of it.

It was thinking about George that was keeping her going, but that was getting harder with every minute that went by. She had always been cautiously optimistic - her glass was never half empty, always half full but she was also a realist, and she knew the chance of her getting out of wherever they were alive were getting smaller. She hated the idea of dying here without seeing her family again, but she had to at least prepare herself for that happening.

'Ron, will you do me a favour?' she asked. It was almost a whisper but it was all she could manage.

Ron opened his eyes and lifted his head, he had been dozing or trying to shut out all around him, she wasn't sure which.

'Of course, do you need to move again?'

'No, nothing like that, I think I prefer my backside numb, anyway, better than cold! No, I want you to pass a message on to my family and George, should I not-'

'Don't you dare finish that sentence!' he growled. 'You're not giving me any death messages to pass on because you're not going to die, Hermione! You can't!'

She waited until he had calmed down before she spoke.

'Ron, believe me, I don't intend to die here, but I have to look at the facts. I'm injured, probably still bleeding internally, I have very little energy, and it's all I can do at the minute to carry on talking. Things don't look good, you have to admit...'

He glared at her defiantly but didn't respond. She took that as a sign to keep on talking.

'Tell Mum and Dad that I love them and that I'm so grateful for everything they did for me, okay? I know I'm coming out with clichés but they're said for a reason.'

She felt her throat tightening and tears burn her eyes.

'I don't know what else I'd say to them, they're the most fundamental things, really.'

Ron was ignoring her but she knew he was taking in what she was saying.

'As for your...' the pain in her side suddenly got worse and she hissed in pain. As she looked at the ceiling, black spots started to invade her peripheral vision. 'As for your f...family. Tell them thank you for everything, for... treating me like a daughter. They made my life in the Magical world so much better than I ever imagined.'

She cried out in pain, something was wrong, something had changed or burst or broken or something. Her stomach was churning with fear and she curled towards Ron without realising what she was doing.

'Hermione! What is it? What hurts?'

'Ev...everything,' she whispered.

She grabbed his hand.

'What can I do? Tell me Hermione! What can I do?'

'Tell G...George I love him... and that...that h...he's the reason I lasted this...long...'

'Oh God, Hermione, I'm sorry, I can't help you! I don't know what to do!'

She felt his tears land on her face and although she was in chronic pain, she was overwhelmed by a sense of calm. If this was her time, she would face death head on.

'Ron, you can't help me, just do me one favour.'

'Any...anything,' he said through the sobs that were making him shake violently.

'Give a dying g...girl one last... kiss.'

Still shaking, he wiped his face and placed his hands on hers.

She closed her eyes and waited. As his lips brushed hers she held her breath. He kissed her firmly then pulled back slightly, before moving in once more. His tongue nudged at her lips and she opened her mouth to let him in. Their tongues swirled and she had never felt so alive. Tears fell from her eyes, she thought of George and she thought of Ron. She sucked on his tongue one final time and then pulled away panting.

'Y...you're a wonderful p...person, Ron. Don't ever let any...anyone tell you differently. I love you...'

She couldn't see anymore, and his voice was fading in and out.

'Please, Hermione, don't leave me! You can't d...die! Not here, not like this!'

'Tell G...Geor...'

With that last breath she slid into unconsciousness.

Harry

'What do you mean he's been sighted?' Harry demanded of the trainee Auror who had just apparated to the farm building and ran inside with a message for Auror Potter and the search team. 'Where?' he shouted at the shaking teenager.

'Sev...Sevenhampton. Village across from... here... mile outside the village... random square of trees... was seen flying into them... on a broom... hasn't been seen coming out?'

'And it was definitely him?'

'Erm... yes... that's what I was told... sir...'

'Why am I not there yet?' Harry barked at the trainee.

'Oh!' The very nervous Auror fumbled in his robes for something, then pulled out a chipped mug and handed it to Harry. 'Because you haven't activated this portkey yet.'

'George! Get your arse over here!' he called across the building.

'Reynolds, Archer, Forbes, Jackson, Habib and Sampson will meet you there,' the Trainee rambled off to Harry. George arrived at Harry's side.

'Touch this.'

'What? Oh! Right!'

'Err, sir?' Harry looked at the Trainee. 'I was told to tell you that no one-'

Harry glared at the now shaking Trainee.

'Never mind.' He disappeared in a rustle of robes but Harry wasn't watching.

'Hold tight!' Harry said to George. George nodded and gripped the handle of the mug.

'Mashed Potato,' Harry said and instantly he felt a pull behind his navel and then everything was a blur.

A Love That Runs So Deep: Part 2

Lying In Your Arms, Dying in Your Embrace | R/Hr | Rated: T

Thu, 16 Apr 2009 21:09:17 GMT

Title: Lying In Your Arms, Dying in Your Embrace
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,070
Warnings: Angst, much, much angst. Description of violence. Overdramatic title.
Author's Note: I wanted to practice Hurt/Comfort writing because I've never really done it before. I started this a looooooong time ago and have finally dusted it off and finished it. Any con crit would be appreciated. :)

Lying In Your Arms, Dying in Your Embrace

…

She knew she had felt pain worse than this, but she couldn't quite remember when.

She could feel the blackness trying to overtake her vision but she fought it.

Think Hermione!

She was in pain, that much she knew, every breath she took reminded her of the fact. She had to get to somewhere safe; somewhere that wasn't a back street in a big city. She knew she had something that would help her get somewhere safe, but her brain refused to locate that information in her memory.

Stretching out slightly from her foetal position she put her hand on the cold, wet floor and tried to free her other arm from underneath her, but the stabbing pain caused her to whimper and stop moving immediately. She rolled back to her previous position and decided trying to find the thing that she knew she had on her to help her, would be the best thing she could do.

Clumsily she managed to get her hand in her outside pocket, but all she pulled out were a set of keys and a handful of tissues. She studied them, trying to think whether they were any help. After longer than her aching body appreciated, she realised these things weren't what she needed.

Again she raised her hand and somehow managed to find her inside pocket, her hand closed around something small and metallic and she brought it out of her cloak, dropping it on the floor.

It made a harsh noise that she screwed up her eyes against on instinct. She so wanted to fall asleep, close herself off to the pain that kept coursing through her body.

It was then she remembered. She remembered where she had felt pain worse than this. She remembered hearing that harsh word and then feeling the spell hit her with a small tingle before the all-consuming pain hit every nerve in her body. She had screamed, screamed louder than she thought was possible, but there was nothing she could do to stop the screaming. Or the pain.

She remembered how, after the third or fourth time the spell had hit her, she had partially shut down. She had stopped all rational thought and tried to concentrate on willing herself to stay awake.

For Ron.

Because he had fought his way back to her, so she would fight her way back to him.

The pain coursed through her once more and she wrenched her eyes open. She grabbed hold of the hard, cold metal object.

'T…take me…h-home.'

Ron knew he had to be alarmed because of that noise, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was or why it meant trouble.

He had barely heard it but he had shushed the other people in the office until he realised that he had to search for it.

He reached under the table for his bag, the sound got louder as he opened it.

'Ron, what's wrong?' Harry asked him.

He fumbled around in his bag for something he didn't recognise. His hand closed around his wallet, his keys, some scrunched up balls of parchment, a muggle pen, a very squashy chocolate frog and then finally something cold and hard that he didn't instantly recognise.

He pulled it out of his bag and looked at it, very confused.

It was growing hot in his hand and had started to vibrate slightly.

'Ron, what's—?'

Harry had walked over to Ron and seemed to half recognise what he was holding.

Ron thought hard for a second and then remembered.

It was his emergency portkey. But this was no normal portkey. It was linked to Hermione's. When Hermione's was used, this one wailed until Ron activated it, telling him Hermione was at home waiting for him.

It had been months since they had thought these were necessary, hence the reason why he had forgotten all about his.

Then the realisation that Hermione might be in trouble really hit him.

His stomach squirmed and he shuddered.

He looked Harry in the eye and knew he understood.

'Take me to her,' he said to the mundane looking bottle opener. 'Take me home!'

Landing on the floor had been painful. More than painful. She knew it was going to hurt, but she wasn't quite prepared for the pain landing on her heavily injured side on her lounge floor would cause her.

She had cried out, half hoping that that would suffice to call Ron to her.

She had hoped and prayed that Ron was at home and able to take away her pain, but by instinct she knew he wasn't there. Then instinct was overtaken by her senses. She heard no noise, therefore, Ron was not where she needed him to be.

She had to let someone know she was here, she wasn't sure how long she was going to stay awake – all she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep. The pain would go away then, she knew it would. But the fighting voice in the back of her head was yelling and screaming, telling her to stay awake.

For Ron. Because he would find her and he would help her.

She inched her arm forward, grabbing what she could of the long fibered rug. It was then that she properly looked at her hand. For a second she wondered why it was smeared with something that was bright red, but then realisation hit that her hands were covered in her own blood.

Her attacker had come out of nowhere, demanded her bag and when she had refused and had fumbled for her wand in her coat, the man had panicked, lunged for her bag and then she felt two dull blows to her side. When she had lost grip of her bag, the man had fled and she had fallen to the ground. At first she didn't know why all her strength in her legs had gone, but then she looked at her hand, which was holding her side, and there was blood. So much blood. It was then she realised that she had been stabbed.

She refused to die this way. This was not going to happen.

She closed her eyes, the screaming voice in her head getting fainter then louder again. Eventually it faded totally and all she could hear was her laboured breathing. She was starting to get confused again, only knowing that she was in pain and that she was bleeding. Her eyes closed, She could hear something, a sound she had heard recently and then shouting.

But then she knew no more.

He tore through the house and bounced off the doorframe and into the lounge. He stopped when he saw her on the floor, visibly shaking, eyes closed, blood all over her hands.

'No! Hermione!' He took the three steps needed to reach her and fell on his knees next to her.

'Hermione, open your eyes for me. Come on Hermione, I need you to open your eyes for me.'

He stared at her, willing her to open her eyes.

When she didn't he really started to panic. He didn't know what to do. His head was telling him to get help, or get Hermione to someone who could heal her, but his heart just wanted to hold her and get her to open her eyes for him. Because he needed to look into those eyes again and reassure him and her that she was going to be all right.

Gently he rolled her over and he gasped when he saw the blood stain on the carpet. He now knew why she was unconscious. He pulled up her top and winced at the stab wounds. Anger surged through him. He didn't know what he'd do if he ever set eyes on the person who had done this to his girl. Done this to his Hermione.

She was still bleeding heavily, he had to try and do something to stop it. He pulled off his jumper and balled it up before pressing it into her side. He was startled but slightly relieved when she cried out in pain.

'I'm so sorry, my love, I have to. Hermione, can you open your eyes for me? Please, darling. I need you to open your eyes for me.

He leaned over her and brushed her hair off her clammy face. Knowing it would get a reaction out of her, he pressed harder on her wound.

She cried out again and tried to roll away from the pain. Her eyes opened and tried to focus, but then he watched them roll backwards.

'No! Come on Hermione, I know you can do it. Open your eyes, now!

With what looked like the biggest effort she had ever had to give, her eyes opened.

He was blurry, but she knew who he was. She had heard him asking her, begging her to open her eyes, and she had tried, she really had, but she just didn't have the energy.

She had been confused when he had obviously pressed on her wound and had made the pain worse, but she knew Ron, and knew there would be a reason for it, even though it hurt. A lot.

'Hermione, can you hear me?'

She wanted to nod her head or say a simple 'yes' but never before had simple movements been so hard for her. She told herself to answer him, but all that escaped her was a grunt. Better than nothing, she supposed.

'Hermione, I need to move you, I need to get you to hospital but it's going to hurt, probably more than a bit but I wouldn't do it unless I needed to, you know that. I'd never hurt-.'

She knew why he'd stopped talking. She managed to raise her hand and found his forearm; she squeezed it with all her might.

'Hurts… R… Ron.'

'I know, I know my darling and I'm so sorry I'm going to hurt you more but I need to get you out of here.'

It made sense, of course it did, but she could barely tolerate the pain as it was, she wouldn't cope with any more.

'Don't w… want to leave. W… want to st… stay here with y… you. You can make it b… better…'

She focused on him and saw the tears in his eyes.

'I can't. I can't, Hermione, I don't know how, and I can't lose you. I need you telling me what to do and what to remember in the morning. I need you telling me you love me even though I'm a complete arse sometimes, I just… need you. I can't help you but I can get you to people who can.'

She shut her eyes as a wave of pain took her breath away.

'No! Hermione! Don't you dare close your eyes. I know you're still with me, and you have to keep your eyes open. Come on, Hermione!'

He was wasting time and he knew it. He should have already apparated to the hospital and handed her over to the Healers, but he knew that as soon as he did that he would be buffeted out the way and not be allowed to see her. Not being family throws up these issues in medical institutions and when she's at her most fragile, he can't bear to leave her alone.

There's also a niggling thought at the back of his mind that this could be the last conversation he has with her and he wants it to last as long as possible.

He boxes away that thought and lets his head take over. Not wanting to relieve the pressure on her side, he has to, to pick her up. He pushes his arm under her legs and wriggles his other one under her back.
She gasps when he stands and curls his arms towards himself, holding her tightly.

Her arm falls out of his fingertip grip on it and he watches as her eyes roll to the back of her head once more. He's losing her and he's just standing there watching it happen.

Thinking only of the hospital he shuts his eyes and concentrates.

'I love you, Hermione,' he says as he steps forwards into the compression of apparition.

When he materialises in the hospital, all hell breaks loose and there's absolutely nothing he can do to stop it.

The Way it Should Be | F/Hr | Rated: PG

Wed, 18 Mar 2009 09:15:27 GMT

Challenge 9 round 2 of fwhg_ldws

Title: The Way it Should be
Rating: PG
Word Count: 731
A/N: Well, this was my last one, the other drabbles this week were outstanding and I knew my time was up. However, I got the Mod's Choice award so that was rather cool! :D

The Way it Should Be

It's like it's become a part of me.

I know that sounds ridiculous, especially because I'm talking about a building, but it's true. For the short amount of time when I felt like I wasn't welcome here, it was physically painful. I kept telling myself it was all because of the hostility of the people in the house, which was partly true, but it was the place I missed as well. The crookedness of the structure, the orchard at the back, the yard with the chickens running freely and even the ghoul in the attic.

It was where I learnt what it was really like to be magical. Granted, I learnt as much as I could from books, but just being around magical people made all the difference and showed me wizardry was more than spells.

It was where I learnt that sometimes you had to make decisions that you didn't want to make, but had to for either the greater good, or for your own. Sometimes the two aren't mutually exclusive, sometimes they are.

I learned to love, to hurt, to cry, to feel and to live. To make the right decision, to accept when I had made the wrong decision, to trust, to be cautious, and to laugh. Of course I knew all of these things before, but I didn't really know them until I became myself, and that happened during my time at the Burrow.

Can I really credit all that to a building? Well, I suppose not. A house isn't a home without the people you love inside it. I loved them all. I had a second set of parents and many siblings. I fell in love with one of them, and then another. The time when I wasn't exactly welcome… that would be the time I 'chose the wrong brother'.

And that would be one of the decisions I made for my own good. Was I selfish? Probably. But I know more people would have been hurt in the long run had I not made it. Don't ask me what went wrong between Ron and me because I can't honestly tell you. I'd be lying or insulting either of us if I came up with some half-hearted excuse, so I never have. I just fell out of love with him, and then found true love with Fred.

It was strange, I'm not going to deny that. Even when people insisted they were fine with the whole situation, I still refused to be affectionate towards Fred when with company. Thankfully, over time, the guilt grew less. We were okay, though. More than okay, in fact.

We've had our heartaches and pain over the years, and there's been many years. I wish less of them would show up as grey hairs on my head.

People passed on; thankfully, when the time seemed right, and through various circumstances, the Burrow is now the place I truly call home. Our children have called it home, and our Grandchildren, too. It's still the most open house you will ever come across. With a Weasley family that is now too big to explain in an afternoon, it could never be quiet. We love it this way, it's the way it always has been and the way we always want it to be. I don't think this house would survive without the constant flow of people coming in and out of it.

There I go again, talking like it's alive or something. Call me mad or crazy, but with the amount of magic that this house has seen and been strengthened by over the years, there's more to it than brick, slate and wood.

'Hermione?'

'Yes, my love.'

'You're staring at the house again.'

'Of this I am perfectly aware, Fred.'

'You know, I think you might be more in love with this house than you are with me.'

'Yes. Probably.'

Even after all these years I love to make him laugh.

'Ah well, at least you're not running off after younger men. At least if the house is here, you'll still be here.'

I looked up at the old building once more.

'How long do you reckon it'll be here for?'

'I dunno. Longer than us I'd guess. There'll be many more Weasley generations passing through this old house.'

'Good. That's the way it should be.'

The Coward Who Said No To Paradise | F/Hr | Rated: PG

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 09:51:56 GMT

Challenge 8, round 2 of fwhg_ldws

Title: The Coward Who Said No To Paradise
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 750
A/N: none

The Coward Who Said No To Paradise

The rest of them managed it with absolutely no problems at all. All the Weasley brothers managed to find a girl they loved and are living their happily ever afters with them. Ginny managed it as well, and she managed to live her happily ever after with the Saviour of the Wizarding World, no less. Quite an achievement.

George had managed it, too. Found the girl of his dreams in one of my ex-girlfriends which, contrary to popular belief, had never been an issue. Me and Angelina had gone out a few times, laughed a lot, but had never felt the compulsion to commit to each other. Years later she met George and found something in him that she had never found in me, and really, it didn't bother me. I was already married by then.

I'm giving the impression that I've never settled down, when I have. I married Rachel six years ago and I love her. She's just not the girl of my dreams.

The girl of my dreams married my younger brother and that was fine. When they married she was Hermione Granger, slightly bossy and occasionally annoying with her 'always has to be right' complex, but at the same time brilliant.

The brilliant bit struck me a couple of years after I got married and apparently it struck her that I was brilliant, too, around about the same time. Merlin knows why she thought I was worth risking her marriage for, but there was obviously something about me that she liked.

But after one very close call in Wheezes I decided we couldn't risk the upset it would cause. That's right, I, Fred Weasley, was utterly selfless and called it off. I said things like 'it would cause too much hurt' and 'we'd be outcast from the family' as reasons, and she agreed.

I'll never forgive her for that.

Inside I was begging her to tell me it wouldn't matter as long as we could be together, but she was being selfless like me and put other people first.

Selfless or just cowardly. I haven't decided yet.

Then a few years ago I told her I didn't care about anyone else anymore, that we should be together regardless of all that.

But then she got pregnant and that put that idea to rest.

My Goddaughter is the spitting image of her, except with Weasley red hair. Sometimes I wonder what mine and Hermione's children would look like. Rachel was never all that maternal, we came to the attitude of 'if it happens then fair enough, if not, we'll not lose any sleep over it'. Maybe if I had my own children I'd feel more guilty. Maybe the want to leave my wife and live a life with Hermione would die a little more every time I saw my child's smile.

But the want and need for Hermione hasn't gone, even though the opportunity has. Why? Because one of us is dead.

Selfishly, I wish it were me, because then I wouldn't have to grieve for someone I loved with all my heart, without looking as though I'm more upset than a brother-in-law should be.

That and I wouldn't have to live with the fact that I chose the easy way out. We could have had everything we both wanted and needed, but both took a step backwards and kidded ourselves that it was for the best.

Everyone's left the graveyard now, except me. I cry tears for her, for me, my little brother, my Goddaughter, and a new born baby that will never know his mother because of 'complications'. How, with all the magic in the world, she died while bringing another life into being, I'll never understand. But I don't have to understand it, I just have to live with it.

If I've never had it, I can't miss it, can I?

Wrong. Sobs are wracking through me and there's nothing I can do to stop them, and I don't want to. If I do this here and now I can carry on as is expected of me. I'll be the shoulder to cry on, I'll be the one giving words of comfort to Ron and the very confused four-year-old girl who just doesn't understand why her mummy isn't here anymore. I'll be the person I'm not and get on with it.

I'll be Fred Weasley, doting Godfather and supportive brother, and not the coward who said no to paradise.

All in the Name of Work | F/Hr | Rated: PG

Wed, 04 Mar 2009 12:53:24 GMT

Challenge 7, round 2 of fwhg_ldws

Title: All in the Name of Work
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 743
A/N: none

All in the Name of Work

He wasn't sure if he had ever been in this much pain before. Even a stone wall crushing him in the final battle hadn't hurt this much.

He had never meant for it to go this far, and it had all started out so innocently. Well, as innocent as it can be when you're inventing the second wave of Skiving Snack Boxes.

They had done projectile vomiting, fevers, and nosebleeds, but now they wanted to come up with three more ailments they could sell along with their antidotes.

After a three hour long thinking session, George had decided to look into unexplained paralysis of the limbs and Fred had taken on head colds. After George had somehow managed to lose the ability to move both arms and legs at the same time and had to wait for Fred to come home after an evening out, Fred decided he had taken the better half of the deal.

So for the last few weeks he had been sporting varying degrees of sneezing, watery eyes, a running nose and the odd cough for good measure.

What he didn't expect from this was that Hermione would become concerned for his health and feel the need to take care of him.

This was the main reason for his current predicament. He had notice that the more ill he had seemed, the more caring Hermione had become. Not that she wasn't caring when he was well, it's just he got extra attention when he was 'suffering'.

He had yet to tell her that he wasn't actually suffering at all, in that he didn't feel ill, he just was a little tired of wiping his nose.

The small bottle of what he had heard being called 'Pepper Spray' had seemed so innocent and he had waved away the concerns for experimenting with it. It seemed perfect for what he wanted: it caused shortness of breath and stinging eyes which was what he was looking for for the main ingredient.

Expecting only a small amount of stinging in his eyes he had pointed the can at his face and squeezed the trigger.

Now he was rolling around, swearing to high heaven and banging his fists on the floor. He had never felt pain like it.

'Fred! What's wrong? What's happen-...' He heard Hermione stop at where he thought he had dropped the bottle. 'Oh, please tell me you did not squirt yourself with Pepper Spray.'

'Might... have...'

'But why would you-... it's just... are you insane?'

'I didn't know it would hurt this bloody much!'

'Oh, yes, because squirting yourself with something that only stings a little bit is perfectly sensible!'

'It's for work! I don't normally go around trying to give myself a cold, you know!'

'Oh, well if it's for work then that's perfectly accept-...'

If Fred hadn't been in the pain he was, he would be concerned that he just dropped himself in a huge pile of Hippogryff dung, but because he was still writhing in agony, he didn't care one bit.

'Are you saying that for the past four weeks I've been thinking you've been ill with a very bad cold that would not go and trying to make you feel better, when it's all been self inflicted?'

Fred crawled over to the sofa and sat back against it and tried to open his eyes. A very blurry shape - which he knew by the large mass of brown was Hermione - filled his vision.

'That might be the case, yes,' he said as he shut his eyes again.

'Right, well in which case I shall leave you to carry on with your experiments!'

She disappeared from his very blurry view.

'Wait! Hermione, please! You have to help me!'

'I do not!'

'Okay, I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you!'

'How?'

'I'll stop arsing around, tell you I really fancy you and take you out on a date instead of tricking you into caring for me.'

He waited for her response, his eyes still burning.

'I want flowers and chocolates on our first date and I want to go somewhere nice, you are not just going to take me to the pub!'

'Absolutely. Chocolates, flowers, somewhere posh.'

'Fine, apology accepted.'

'Thank you, now can you help me with this?'

'I'll try, but you might just have to sit it out.'

'Will you sit it out with me?'

'Well, seeing as though you asked nicely...'

Over. Finished. No More. | F/Hr | Rating: PG-13

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:42:38 GMT

Challenge 6, round 2 of fwhg_ldws

Title: Over. Finished. No More.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 747
A/N(optional): None
...

Over. Finished. No More.

Of all the things he had walked in on over the years, this was the something he both never ever wanted to see, but at the same time, needed to see. Because if Hermione Granger agreed to marry his younger brother then that was it. Over. Finished. No more.

Technically he hadn't actually walked in the warm lounge of the Burrow, but he had poked his head around the door, looking for everyone inside the house, who - according to his mother - should be outside eating too much and enjoying the late summer heat.

As soon as he had seen Ron down on one knee in front of Hermione he had quickly stepped back and held his breath for a few seconds, making sure he hadn't been seen by either of them.

He shut his eyes, trying to take the image from his mind, but it was burned into his mind's eye and he could see them as clearly as if he was still looking at them.

He could hear Ron starting his prepared speech and he couldn't help but push the door open a tiny bit more and look through the gap.

Hermione was obviously flustered, her cheeks red and switching her weight from foot to foot occasionally. She was smiling, and her eyes, well, he hated that he couldn't look into them properly to gauge exactly how she was feeling. She hated that he could do that, knew she couldn't hide anything from him, however much she wanted to.

He let his head fall against the door frame and he willed her to look up at him. He needed her to look at him, to tell him through her eyes that she loved Ron more than she loved him. He needed to know that was how she felt.

Because if it was, then this was it: he would stop this ridiculous obsession with her and get on with his life as he was before all this started.

Over. Finished. No more.

But it wasn't a ridiculous obsession, because he loved her, and he knew she loved him too. The time she had spent in the shop with him had started out as friendship, then she started helping with a couple of the inventions - mainly the safety aspects of them, antidotes, cushioning charms and self contained flames - where they found they made each other smile, wound each other up which always ended in laughter, and then one evening, a kiss.

'Hermione, I know I'm not perfect, and I get things wrong sometimes...'

Don't put yourself down. She hates </i>that! ...

'Oh for-!' The potion in the cauldron hissed and then evaporated into thin air. 'I'm such a stupid...' the growl of frustration made her turn around and look at him. 'I can't even read instructions anymore! I've just put twice the amount of snake venom in there and it's gone and evaporated the whole bloody lot! Merlin!'

'Fred Weasley don't you dare call yourself stupid! You made a mistake, everyone does it...'

He remembered the way she had kissed him after that. He had gone to argue, but she had stopped him with a fierce kiss. When they pulled apart she looked frightened and guilty, but he knew she didn't regret it.

'...I love you more than anything in the world...'

He had told her he loved her once.

'No you don't, Fred. I'm far too uptight, to bossy and just too boring for you. You need someone more like you, and I... I need...'

She had never finished that sentence because he had kissed her, trying to tell her how he felt without words.

'...if you would do me the honour, of being my wife.'

He looked right at her, and she lifted her head and looked straight at him. She stared at him, and he stared right back, neither of them blinking. His stomach turned, waiting for the decision that was going to change his life, whatever it was.

'Yes, Ron. I'll marry you.'

He watched as Ron stood up and hugged his fiancee. She looked right at him over Ron's shoulder and he nodded his head an inch with a smirk on his face.

He turned round and walked back out to the garden and the family madness.

From now on, Hermione Granger was his friend and his brother's fiancee.

No longer was she the woman he loved.

It was all over.

Over. Finished. No more.

I Don't Want To Stop At All | F/Hr | Rated: PG

Sun, 08 Feb 2009 18:36:15 GMT

Challenge 4, round 2 of fwhg_ldws

Title: I Don't Want To Stop At All
Rating: PG
Word Count: 750
A/N: Apparently the prompt for this week wasn't enough of a challenge for me, so I decided it would be more fun to chop the rabble up into a 50 word intro, and seven 100 word drabbles! Seriously someone tell me to do things the easy way next time, okay? *rolls eyes at self*

I Don't Want To Stop At All

She was determined this time.

She was.

Probably.

She was determined, yes, but the past three times she had tried to actually talk to Fred about their 'Situation' something had stopped her. Namely, her nerves and Fred's lack of urgency.

Not this time, though. Nothing was going to stop her.

...

Fourth time lucky...

She walked up Diagon Alley towards the brightly coloured shop and went over her opening line in her head. Yes, she had thought of an opening line because she had left talking to him about that for far too long. Not that that was her fault of course.

She carried on up to the door, at which point it was blown off its hinges and landed at her feet. She sighed, knowing that now wasn't the time for that conversation and that she would be spending the next few hours trying to undo whatever had just happened.

...

Fifth time's not a charm...

Today would be fine. It would. She was meeting him for lunch and then all her questions would be answered. She would know if their passionate kiss in the orchard at the Burrow had meant something to him, as it had to her. She wasn't sure if she could admit that to him yet, she had only just admitted it to herself.

'Hermione! Court hearing's been moved forward to half twelve.'

Her heart sank.

'But-'

'I haven't eaten, either!'

'I was-'

'You'll have to meet whoever it is some other day.'

Well, that was that.

...

Sixth time had to work...

She was about to apparate out of her flat when an owl landed on the windowsill and started tapping on the glass urgently.

She let the owl in and took the scroll of parchment from its leg.

Recognising Fred's handwriting she sighed.

Hermione,

Explosions are the thought of the month apparently; George just blew up the kitchen. The building has to be stabilised before anyone else can come in. He apologises profusely as do I.

Sorry again,

Fred x

She kicked off her shoes and landed heavily on the sofa. Tonight was not her night.

...

Seventh Heaven?

Sick of missing their meetings, she decided going to see him when they had arranged nothing was the best. Her lack of knowledge about something so important to her was infuriating. Something must be done.

She arrived as the last customers were leaving, but one was still talking to Fred. She waited near the sweets.

'Sir, I can't give you a refund!'

'You'll give me a refund, Weasley. Or else.'

'Or else what?'

The bang made her scream. The man fled, but she had only eyes for the man on the floor. The man who was hardly breathing.

...

I waited too long...

'Fred... it's me... Hermione...'

She looked over his still body.

'Um... I don't know what to say. Typical really, I've wanted to talk to you for ages, and now that I can, I can't!

'I miss you. Ridiculous, really, I've seen you more this week than ever. At least before I could've spoken to you if I really tried. I mean... I did try, maybe I'm just scared you don't think of that kiss as much as-'

She watched his eyes open and heard him clear his throat.

'Her...mione?'

'Fred?'

'It d...did... kiss me.'

...

Nine days later...

'Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?'

'Hermione, I'm fine! Sit down and stop fussing!'

'I'm not fussing! I'm looking after the man who was hexed unconscious and refused to wake up for a week!'

'I was recovering! At least you had a peaceful week! And you loved what I did, when I did!'

She couldn't argue with that.

'I thought I'd missed my chance,' she said quietly.

'With what?'

'You... Us... I don't even know if there is an 'us'.'

'Do you want there to be?'

'Do you?'

'Answer the question.'

'Yes.'

'Then there's an 'us'.'

...

One, two, three...

They had missed their first three attempts at an official date. Hermione was hardly surprised and now expected something to happen whenever they made plans.

It was Friday, she had finished her work and she decided to be spontaneous.

She went home, changed and headed out for Wheezes.

She had decided that going out with Fred Weasley was going to be a fascinating challenge, but she found herself liking that concept.

With regards to Fred Weasley, nothing was going to stop her.

I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky...

She didn't want to stop at all.

Ginger Sniffles | F/Hr | Rated: PG-13

Sun, 08 Feb 2009 18:29:30 GMT

Challenge 3, Round 2 of fwhg_ldws

Title: Ginger Sniffles
Rating: PG
Word Count: 640
A/N: none

Ginger Sniffles

It wasn't often that she let him sprawl across her lap in the undignified way that he was, but he was ill so she would tolerate it for a while.

She stroked his ginger hair out of his eyes, which had started watering yet again. He blinked and tears rolled down his face. He snuffled and rolled onto his back.

Hermione looked down at him and stroked his ginger locks once more. She felt sorry for him, he'd had 'Flu for a long time now, and it didn't seem like it was going to shift anytime soon.

She ran her hand down his side and scratched gently. He didn't do anything but she thought he was appreciative of the action. Her suspicions were confirmed when his tail wrapped around her hand.

''CHOO!'

Crookshanks leaped off Hermione's lap at the noise and ran through to the kitchen.

'Fred! As well as scaring Crookshanks you nearly gave me a heart attack!'

'How come you're giving your bloody cat more attention than me?'

'He's ill!'

'So am I!' Fred retorted, outraged.

'He's got Cat 'Flu!'

'And I've got Man 'Flu!'

She rolled her eyes.

'You know full well there is no such thing as 'Man 'Flu' and 'Flu for a cat is much worse than it is for a human!'

Fred tried to look angry but his bright red nose did little for the effect.

'I told you to stay in bed, anyway,' she said kindly, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

'I would've done but I need a drink and my nurse was too busy fussing over her other very ill patient!'

'Oh, shush! I'll get you a drink, what do you want?'

'Honey, Lemon and Firewhiskey, please,' he said with a smile.

'If you keep putting Firewhiskey in your Honey and Lemon you'll be ill and hung over, tomorrow.'

'Yes, but I don't have to go to work, so I won't c…ca…car-choo!'

All the lights went out in the room.

'Oh, well this is bloody wonderful, Fred!' Hermione exclaimed as she stumbled over Crookshanks in an attempt to retrieve her wand off the sofa.

She felt her hand scoot the wand a few inches across the cushion and leaned forwards to grasp it, when Crookshanks got under her feet once more and she lost her balance and went crashing to the ground.

'Oww! Oh, Merlin above!'

'Hermione? Are you okay?'

'No! Ahh! God, that hurts!'

'What've you hurt? Where the hell are- this is ridiculous!'

'I didn't spark out the lights, Fred!' she shouted from the floor.

She heard him sigh and shuffle back to the bedroom. He disappeared and then she saw wand light come towards her.

She watched, still clutching her knee – which was still hurting far too much for her liking – as Fred waved his wand and lit the candles situated around the room and sat down next to her with the duvet off the bed.

'Fred, what-?'

'Well, I'm guessing you aren't moving anywhere quickly and I don't want to be in the bedroom on my own.'

Despite her pain, she smiled. Fred pulled the duvet over them, being careful not to press on Hermione's sore knee and they snuggled together. Cushions were pulled off the sofa and they made themselves a sort of den on the lounge room floor.

After a few minutes of just giggling and hugging, Crookshanks made himself comfy on the duvet.

'Arse. I forgot to get my alcoholic Honey and Lemon before I got settled,' Fred said with a sigh.

'Well, if you want it, one of us is gonna have to move.'

'Unless…' Fred pondered. 'Crookshanks?'

The cat looked at him through watery eyes and then settled himself down to sleep.

'Maybe not!'

Temptation Indeed | F/Hr | Rated: G

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 15:48:03 GMT

Title: Temptation Indeed
Rating: PG
Word Count: 100
A/N: none

Temptation Indeed

...

She was unbelievably annoyed with him. He wasn't too happy with her either.

He should've known not to experiment in the kitchen. She should've known he would have cleared it all up.

He had gone for a shower, she had buried herself in a book.

They had both ignored each other when he came back downstairs, dripping wet.

She bristled; he knew that annoyed her.

He also knew she couldn't resist him when he was dripping wet from the shower.

She watched the drips run down the contours of his back, caught by his towel.

Temptation indeed.

Git.

Making a Start | F/Hr | Rated: PG

Sun, 18 Jan 2009 10:30:28 GMT

Title: Making a Start
Author: thesteppyone
Rating: PG
Word Count: 745
A/N: Warnings for major character death and angst. The two do generally go well together! lol
Originally written for the fwhg_ldws Round 2 Challenge 1

Making A Start

...

It had been three years since Ron had died, but still she refused to move on. Sometimes he thought he saw some flicker of hope and ambition for something she didn't have but wanted in her eyes, but the next minute he would see it flicker and die.

He knew the thing she didn't have but wanted was him. But that grief, that guilt, an infuriating belief that she was doing something heinous by moving on from loving the person she thought she would love forever was keeping her from him.

He had been there for her since Ron had died. Tried to help her to grieve, and tried to make her see that there was nothing she could have done to save him, been a shoulder to cry on when she could grieve in no other way, and he had desperately tried to make her smile.

That was what he did! He was Fred Weasley, he made a living out of making people laugh! Surely making someone smile was the easiest thing in the world?

Except it wasn't when it was his younger brother's girlfriend who had lost the centre of her world.

It was Christmas Eve and he had no idea why he was standing in front of his brother's grave, the snow falling around him, the wind sticking it to the back of his neck and his hair. He was cold and wet, but part of him was refusing to move, mainly because she hadn't turned up even though she had promised she would.

He hadn't meant to fall in love with Hermione, that hadn't been part of the plan; not that he had a plan as such. If he did have some sort of goal it was to help Hermione see there was a life to continue living. But then it had distorted to trying to show Hermione there was a life worth living which heavily involved him.

He had told her how he felt. Not his finest hour, and the reason he hasn't drunk Firewhiskey since, but he only half regretted it, because finally he could gauge if his hopes were just that, or whether they could actually grow into something real.

'How come you're out here?'

He spun around and skidded on the snow. Hands grabbed his waist and he managed to find his footing before looking down on Hermione's snow covered hair. He cleared his throat.

'Was just asking Ron if he hated me or not.'

'Ever with the dramatics!'

'Not really, brothers have issues when their siblings try and take their girlfriends off them.'

She stepped around him and knelt in front of the headstone.

'You'll get cold,' he said quietly, his now natural instinct of keeping her safe kicking in.

He watched as she leant forwards and kissed Ron's name on the hard stone. His stomach clenched; a part of him hating this obvious show of love for his brother and not him. He watched her stand and turn around to face him. Her eyes were filled with tears and her nose was red.

'He would never hate you,' she whispered, 'and he would want me to be happy.'

'That's all I've ever tried to do; to make you happy, to show you things would get easier and that someone will always love-.' He stopped talking and looked at the snow at his feet. 'I didn't mean to, you know? I never meant for this to become anything other than me being a shoulder you could cry on. I'd never do that to Ron.'

'If he was alive, of course you wouldn't. But he's not, Fred. He died and it's silly to not live when that's what he died for.'

He held his breath, not having a clue if, how or why things had changed.

He watched as she took a small step towards him, put her cold hands on his face and pressed her lips to his. He closed his eyes and didn't move, not wanting to give her reason to pull away.

She did though, as he knew she would.

'Hermione, I'm confused, what-?'

'It's a start. I can't promise anything except that I'll start living the way I want to as opposed to living in the past. His death was pointless if I don't.

He couldn't help but smile and she returned the gesture.

'How's that for 'pulling myself together and moving on'?'

He chuckled.

'It's a start, Hermione, it's a start.'

A New Remedy | R/Hr | Rated: R

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 22:42:37 GMT

Title: A New Remedy
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Words: 1213
Rating: R
Warnings: Um, nothing really, mention of Ron's cock?
Author's note: Happy birthday to my big sis, oncelikeshari who is 33 tomorrow! *hugs* Thanks to shocolate for the beta.

A New Remedy

…

She had been coughing for days now. Her whole body ached and she wheezed every time she came out of a coughing fit. Much to her annoyance, over the centuries, no one in the Wizarding World had found a cure to a very annoying and vicious virus that, in her boyfriend's words 'just refuses to bugger off!'.

She hadn't been at work that day, she did attempt to get up, but after she had all but fallen out of bed with dizziness, Ron had literally picked her back up and put her back to bed. At one point she thought he had hexed the duvet to not let her move around more than was necessary for rolling over in your sleep, but, if she was honest, she hadn't really cared, she was already on her way back to sleep, coughing occasionally into the duvet to attempt to muffle the noise.

'Don't you even dare attempt to get out of bed unless you really need to pee, Hermione Granger! I shall be back earlier than normal and if there is evidence that you have been up and about, I will have to take your favourite book away from you!'

She smirked into her pillow, awake enough to know what her husband had said, but not awake enough to be able to argue back. Besides, now she was tucked up in a very warm and comfortable bed, she had no desire to get up, other than if she needed to pee, of course.

Through the day she had slept, coughing herself awake occasionally before falling back to sleep. By mid afternoon she actually felt a little better and after fighting her way out of the duvet to go to the bathroom, she came back and decided to read the book Ron threatened to take off her. Lying down and reading could hardly be seen as overdoing it.

She even remembered to drink some of the hot honey and lemon Ron had made her and charmed to stay warm, and made herself feel better by taking some of the Muggle cough mixture she took as a child. The actual medicinal purposes of the very sticky syrup were in question, but it tasted good and did, for a small time, soothe her throat.

Ron had, as he had said, arrived home from work early and after a minute of interrogation was satisfied Hermione had only ventured to the bathroom and apart from reading, had been asleep for the rest of the day.

After more honey and lemon and some porridge that you could have plastered walls with, Hermione was feeling a lot better and the evening was finishing nicely with her and Ron snuggled together in bed, watching the telly. They exclaimed at the shocking twist in the story – shockingly bad, not shocking in a I had no idea that was going to happen! way – and laughed at the bad acting.

As the programme was coming to an end Hermione shuffled so she fit under Ron's arm and moved her hand across his chest. Slowly she moved her had over his stomach to his hip bone, which she made a point of circling with her finger. Ron shivered lightly at the sensation. She moved her hand across to the other one…

Or she would have done had Ron's erect cock not been in the way.

'Oh!' she exclaimed. 'Hi!'

She looked up at his smug face and snorted.

'Okay, should I be scared that you're aroused when watching this ridiculous television show?' Hermione asked while sitting up.

'I may just point out that your 'no sex during illness' rule is still in place and I haven't had sex for two weeks! I'm pretty horny all the time at the minute, oh, darling of mine!'

'Oh! Well, that's reassuring, anyway.'

'That I'm horny all the time?'

'No, that you're not turned on by really bad telly!'

Ron huffed. 'You know, you could always do something about it, my love.'

He leant over and kissed her hard.

'Ron! You've just reminded yourself of my rule. Having a coughing fit in the middle of sex is hardly comfortable and potentially dangerous!'

She turned away from him and took the cough medicine off the bedside table and picked up her already poured drink of honey and lemon. She settled herself back into the dent she had previously made in her pillows and sipped at her drink, knowing Ron was looking at her and planning his next move.

'Would you open my cough medicine for me?' she asked sweetly as she took another sip.

'There's no point taking it until you've finished your drink, it'll wash it away.'

She thought and nodded in agreement. She watched as Ron's hands disappeared under the covers and he rearranged himself.

'You know, the only thing that that cough medicine does is coat your throat with syrup so it's not as raw for a short time.'

'Your point?' Hermione asked turning towards him.

'That was it!'

'Oh! Well, yes, I know that it probably doesn't do a great deal but it tastes nice and I feel better for taking it.'

'Well, if you're working off that logic, then there is something else that will help.'

'What's that then?' Hermione asked, then took another mouthful of drink.

'A shot of Ron's special mix!' Ron replied with a thrust of his hips and a grin on his face.

Hermione nearly choked. This coughing fit not started by the virus that was so reluctant to leave her, but Ron's answer to her question. Thankfully, Ron decided taking her drink off her while she coughed up her lungs was a good idea. When she had recovered enough to glare at him, she did so.

'What?' he asked, trying to look innocent.

'I'll give you ten out of ten for effort, Ronald, but that is all you'll be getting off me tonight.'

'Oh, come on, Hermione! I'm dying here! Please, just for a little bit? Just so my cock doesn't think you've left me!'

Hermione's eyebrows disappeared into her hair.

'Considering your…little Ron-'

'Less of the 'little', thank you!'

'-is a part of you, then it knows perfectly well that I haven't left you!'

'Oh, but, Hermione!' Ron whined, stretching her name out for what felt like eternity. 'It's lonely! It misses you!'

'Aww, bless him! But no. The no sex rule still stands!'

As if to reinforce her point she started coughing again. When she had finished she raised her eyebrows at him and then settled back down under the duvet.

Ron sighed loudly and lay down next to her.

'So, just to be clear, there's no hope for me getting some action tonight, then?'

'Correct. Just think how good it'll be when I'm finally better! You can do what you want to me then!'

Ron face lit up. 'Right! I'll take that with no complaint. Night then!'

And with that he turned over and buried himself in the duvet.

Hermione looked at the Ron shaped lump.

'You're not gonna let me forget that, are you?' she asked as she, too, settled down to go to sleep.'

'Hermione,' the Ron shaped lump said, 'there is more chance of the Cannons winning the league, than there is of me forgetting that!'

I'd Wait For Life | R/Hr | Rated: T

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 18:58:04 GMT

Title: I'd Wait For Life
Pairings: Ron/Hermione
Rating: T
Word Count: 806
Warnings: Angst, much with the angst
Author's note: missgranger2 asked on TQP if there was going to be a sequel to Hold On. While I didn't intend there to be initially, another of Take That's songs got my plot bunnies racing and this is Hermione's point of view when Ron is out wandering. Probably best if you read Hold On first. Also, go and watch the official video for this gorgeous song, here. There's wet boys for the majority of it. I need not say any more! Oh, and it's not been betaed becase I wrote it at work...during my lunch break...obviously...

I’d Wait for Life
Songwriters: Donald, Howard; Owen, Mark Anthony; Orange, Jason; Barlow, Gary;

There's a place we used to be, There's a face that I used to see
There's a picture with you by my side, There's a moment that I want to find.

I don't know where to start, Or how to begin, But I know I love you still.

If you ever turn away, If you ever change your mind
If the road ahead becomes too hard to climb
If there's something in your heart that tells you to stop
Oh to hold you close tonight
I'd wait for life.

There's a voice shouting inside my head, There's a space on your side of the bed
There's a hope every time there's a sound, There's a silence that's playing too loud

I don't know where you are, Or how you may be, But I know I love you still.

If you ever turn away, If you ever change your mind
If the road ahead becomes too hard to climb
If there's something in your heart that tells you to stop
Oh to hold you close tonight
I'd wait for life.

If I close my eyes
I'll dream a little deeper baby
'Cause you are always on my mind
Yeah you are always on my mind
For life.

If you ever turn away, If you ever change your mind
If the road ahead becomes too hard to climb
If there's something in your heart that tells you to stop
Oh to hold you close, yeah, oh to hold you close, tonight
I'd wait for life.

~~~~~~~

I remember when we were happy, and I don't just mean 'getting on with life' happy, I mean really happy. When we would just be sitting watching the telly or listening to the wireless and we'd turn to each other and just smile. Not because we felt we needed to, because we should or because we couldn't think of anything to say. Just because we were that happy that smiling was the only thing we could do.

I wish I could see him smile like that again. Occasionally I see it, occasionally I smile that way too, but all to often it fades too quickly. Disappearing not to be seen for too long a time.

I look across to the chest of drawers and see the many photographs of us on there. There's not one where we're not smiling or laughing, or just generally being silly. Even the one where we're both asleep on the sofa, which Harry took when he flooed in one evening expecting us to be up and about, shows us smiling in our sleep. It's the reason Harry took it. Ron is smirking - he has no idea what he was dreaming about, and I just look content.

I wish we could find moments like that again. All we seem to do now is argue.

I still love him, I know that and I know that I can't live without him and we need to fix whatever went wrong. But I have no idea how to start putting us back together, because I'm not entirely sure what went wrong to start with.

I can see it, every time one of us says something that annoys the other, I can see exactly what's going to happen, can see the hurt that's about to be caused, and hear the words that are about to be shouted. Regardless of this I still carry on as I, we always do, causing the hurt, feeling the pain, shouting the words I don't mean and hearing the ones I know aren't true.

He's not here anymore, he left and I'm cold, I'm wearing his T-shirt and I look at the hem, pulling at the seem. I look at his side of the bed and it's obviously empty. I know he'll come back, he always does. But there's this part of me that's terrified he's left for good. It's only a small part, but it can shout pretty loudly, and I'm hearing it loud and clear now. The door opens and I breathe in sharply, waiting for him to appear. He doesn't, it's Crookshanks. He scuttles under the bed and I can hear him scratching at something. At every new sound he makes I think it's Ron coming back. Hope builds inside me then fades, replaced by a bigger fear than was there before.

Crookshanks leaves the room and suddenly it's far too quiet. Even when he's not talking I love being able to hear Ron. Just him breathing is a constant comfort that he's here with me and nowhere else.

Where he is at the minute, I don't know. I don't know how he'll be feeling either. Angry, probably. Frustrated at me, and at his self, too. Confused because he doesn't know why this keeps happening. Really, I do know how he feels because I'm feeling the same.

What it comes down to, is one decision I have to make: whether I still want to be with him. On thinking it the answer comes to me instantly, of course I do. I want to be there when he's happy, comfort him when he's hurt. Help him when he feels he can't go on, encourage him when he loses his self belief and just be with him. If only he was here so I could tell him.

But would I though? Or would I just let things carry on as they are, toxic and hurting and just plain wrong.

I lie down on the bed and close my eyes, wishing with all my heart that he was here, wrapping his arms around me and telling me it was all going to be all right and that we'd work through this.

That's when I hear the quiet pop of him arriving home. I sit up and watch as he walks in the door. In the moment that our eyes meet I know what I have to do, I have to change the ways things are going and remind myself why I fell in love with this man. I told him I'd never leave him, that I'd be there for him no matter what happened, and I will, I have to.

If it takes us weeks, months, years to put things right I'll wait. I'll work at putting things back together. For him, I'll wait.

For him, I'd wait for life.

2008 Fic Directory

Fri, 02 Jan 2009 16:44:37 GMT

Hey look! I did this in January as opposed to March like I did last year! *snorts*

One Shots
Elvis Sodding Presley Ron/Hermione
A Different Type of Sickness Harry/Ron
Mist and Musings Gen. Hermione and her Dad
Proposals Ron/Hermione
Behind the Allyway Rose/Scorpius NC-17
Cannons 'Til I Die Daddy!Ron and Hugo (helmet_fest2008)
Too Real, Too Alive Past Ron/Hermione attempted Charlie/Hermione
A Question of Blame Ron/Hermione NC-17 (helmet_fest2008)
Emotional Stability George/Lee
Breaking Tradition Ron/Hermione
All I Need Gen Harry Potter and Molly Weasley (helmet_fest2008)
A Totally Different Type of Sickness Harry/Ron Hermione/Viktor
He Could Smile Like This Forever Ron/Hermione
Lucidity Luna/Dean/Seamus (helmet_fest2008)
United We Stand Ron/Hermione Harry/Ron George/Hermione
Third Time's a Charm Ron/Hermione NC-17
Specimen Report Number 537/B Neville/Plant
A Lack of Interference Daddy!Ron, Hugo (rontoberfest)
Hold On Ron/Hermione
Loyalty Ron/Hermione

rhr100 Drabbles
Forward Planning
Sanctuary in His Eyes
Escape (6 Drabbles)
A Lack of Concentration
Getting Easier
No Compromise
Complete

WIPs
Searching Finally Complete!
With My Life Up to Chapter 5

Liking theses...

at TQP | at FF.net

at TQP | at FF.net

at TQP | at FF.net

Timestamp Fic: Loyalty | R/Hr | Rating: G

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 13:16:12 GMT

Yeah... remember ages ago when I asked for prompts for these? No, didn't think so!

Title: Loyalty
Timestamp from: A month after 'By My Side'
Requestor: amieam
Pairings: Ron/Hermione
Rating: G
Words: 1779
Warnings: Um, nothing really, thinking Ron, not that that's a warning
Author's note: Thank you to lnalvgd for the beta :D

Loyalty

...

You would think that deciding to follow your best friend into battle would be the hardest decision in the world, but really, it wasn't. As Hermione said when we were all sat in my bedroom before the year from hell, the decision had been made years ago. You don't abandon your friends, and we never abandoned Harry, like he never abandoned us.

I mean, yeah, over the years there were a couple of times when we fell out and let stupidity, jealousy and anger come between us, but we can't blame ourselves for that. We were teenagers, it's what teenagers do. And it all ended when anything important came up.

Loyal is something I try and be. It's why I hated myself when I left Harry and Hermione in the middle of nowhere in great danger, and it's why I fought tooth and nail to get myself back to them. I had to, I needed them.

Loyalty brings me back to my initial point, and loyalty added to why it was so easy to follow Harry back to Hogwarts that night, even though we knew there was a chance that we wouldn't leave the castle alive.

And it's also the reason why I'm having such a hard time deciding whether to leave my position at Wheezes and join the Ministry.

I told George I'd be there for him and help him with the shop until the world got itself back on its feet and he could get a set of full time staff that he trusted enough to run the shop while he spent his time inventing new products.

There was the Final Battle, then there was the burying of people we loved, and then there was the rebuilding. Hermione went back to school but did work experience at the Ministry at the same time, Harry went charging into the Auror department learning as he went, Neville did too but I got the impression it wasn't what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. I think he was in limbo a bit, still too fired up to not do something that helped with the rebuilding of the Wizarding community, and a bit scared to just slow down and look around him at what his new life was going to be like.

I know that's one of the reasons why I ended up at Wheezes, apart from promising George I'd help him with whatever he needed, but I think I was scared to look around and take in everything that had happened to me and to my two best friends in that one year.

But if I'm honest, a couple of months ago I was getting a little restless. I kept visiting Hermione at the Ministry sporadically during the week and finding myself wandering past the Auror office, wondering what they were up to; wondering whether they had managed to get any new leads on the few remaining Death Eaters who had vanished into thin air. Harry kept me informed if I ever asked him, but he couldn't give away the tiny bits of information that some people might dismiss as unhelpful detail, but others might see as the biggest clue in the world.

That's why I wouldn't leave well alone when I overheard those two dodgy wizards in the men's loos at the Ministry.

I still cringe a little when I think about it. I did royally screw up, even though it just so happened that my actions brought the Ministry straight to the terrorists who they had been following for a few months.

Kingsley thanked me personally but I still feel a little embarrassed about flying near a tree in a thunderstorm, which then exploded right in front of me.

But apparently Kingsley thinks my actions were brave and had I had the correct back up, the possible 'operation' would have gone smoothly. And that's why he's asked me to join Harry and Neville as a junior recruit to the Auror department.

I surprised myself with how excited I got when I opened the letter. I didn't even notice I was opening an official Ministry letter until I unfolded the Minister for Magic's letterheaded parchment and instantly thought I was in trouble. No, I don't have a guilty conscience, I just couldn't think of anything else the Ministry would be getting in touch with me for.

So, now I have to make my decision. Do I stay with George and carry on helping him, or do I start work with the Ministry and Harry? Like I always dreamed I would.

Well, okay, when I was at school I dreamed I would. Then we went on our adventures and at some points I couldn't think of anything worse than spending the rest of my life chasing Death Eaters and Dark Wizards. After the war was over I couldn't even think of the surviving Death Eaters who had escaped without reliving Fred's death in my mind, and I got so angry and frustrated that I would have been no help whatsoever at the Ministry. As much as George was facing his demons by carrying on the shop without his twin brother, I was hiding away from the helplessness that overtook me. Don't ask me how that worked, I know I was surrounded by Fred in every way possible in the shop but it was a comfort as opposed to a harsh reminder of his untimely death.

You know, I'm still no closer to making my decision, what I really want is for someone to be able to look into my future and tell me which I'd be happier doing. I have to think of the future, and, yes, of course that involves Hermione. True to our hospital confessions we spent the three weeks after I came out of hospital looking for a place to live and a small, rather squashed flat in Wizarding London came available. For some reason, we both loved it even though you couldn't swing a Kneazle in any of the rooms. You may manage it in the back garden, but you'd still have to be careful. It was cozy and it was always warm and it was ours. We didn't need anywhere bigger. Obviously, when we have kids and such we'll have to find somewhere bigger, but that's then – and yes, we have had that conversation and I can happily report that we are both happy with what the other wants, although Hermione says she reserves the right to decide on how big our family will be after she's given birth once. To be fair I can't really argue with that.

So, yeah, the future has to influence this decision a little bit. I'm on a fair wage at the minute at the shop and it's not as if Wheezes is going to go out of business any time soon, but Aurors are very well paid and if I can make mine, Hermione's and any small people's lives a little better by having a few more Galleons in the bank, then I will.

I'd sit here and say I didn't have any issues with growing up with not much money for us all, but at times I really did, and I didn't hide it that well at all. No, it wasn't the big deal I made it out to be, but still my teenage self had little else than the odd random attack from Voldemort and trying to figure out girls to deal with, so it sometimes became the thing that annoyed me the most.

Anyway, now I'm waffling and still no nearer to a decision. I think what I'm trying to say is that money shouldn't be a major factor in deciding whether I join the Auror department or not. As long as I'm happy, Hermione's happy and we're happy, I couldn't give a toss about money.

Arse, that means I have to make a decision based on my feelings as opposed to practical worries. Bugger.

I suppose-… was that the floo that just went?

'Hello?' I call to the lounge. I get no reply.

I walk through to the fireplace and see a folded piece of parchment, lightly smoking but not too burnt. I pick up the parchment.

'Ah! Ha! Hot! Dammit!'

Blowing on the parchment before I picked it up was way too easy, apparently. I waft it around a bit and then manage to unfold it without causing myself further injury.

Ron,

Kingsley wants you to come along to the briefing us Juniors are having this afternoon. No pressure, no forcing you to sign up to the Auror programme there and then, just think of it as a taster session. I think it's a training session and there's another person he's invited who's in the same boat as you, wondering whether joining the Aurors is for them.

I know you've got the afternoon off so that's no excuse, and as I said, no pressure. I think it's going to be quite fun to be honest, maybe it's to lure you into the department under false pretences! I'm kidding. Promise.

For what it's worth, I think you should come. It'll be something different for once, won't it? If you don't like it, you walk away more reassured that being an Auror isn't for you, but if you do, well it could be the start of something interesting. And then you won't have to travel far to meet Hermione and me for lunch!

See you later regardless of where.

Harry.

I know in my heart that I've made my mind up before I actively decide I'll go. As Harry said, no pressure, just an afternoon of doing something different and possibly having some fun. I didn't have any plans for today, a possible half baked plan of going to see Bill, Fleur and Victoire, but nothing solid.

If George knew that working with him was stopping me doing something I really want to do, he'd sack me on principle, and maybe I'm doing him an injustice in thinking I still, a year and a bit later, have to look after him. He has his own friends, Lee and Angelina mainly, and they see him right. If I actually think about it, he's doing really well. Moving on like he should but maintaining his connection with Fred in the best way possible, by making people laugh like they need to occasionally.

Yeah, I should go.

What have I got to lose?

I can guarantee you of one thing though, that whatever happens at the Ministry this afternoon, I won't be flying there.

Hold On | Rated: T | R/Hr

Tue, 25 Nov 2008 13:31:36 GMT

Title: Hold On
Rating: T
Pairing/Genre: Het, Ron/Hermione, but can actually be read as pretty much any pairing you want.
Word Count: 902
Warnings: Angst
A/N: Based on Take That's 'Hold On' which is an absolutely beautiful song. Written in my lunch hour today and therefore not beta'd.

...

Hold On
Songwriters: Barlow, Gary; Donald, Howard; Orange, Jason; Owen, Mark Anthony; Robson, Stephen; Shanks, John;

We've been here many times before, Leaving rooms and slamming doors
We're climbing up the bedroom walls, Sometimes we make it so frustrating
I touch your mouth, I touch your lips, The answers at our fingertips
Not giving up or giving in, Why are we so complicated?

Oh tell me what to say, tell me, To make it all ok ... yeah

I don't wanna see you hurting, Just hold on, Just hold on to me
I don't wanna see you crying, So hold on, So hold on to me

I'm tryin' to think of what to do, To really make it up to you
So many truths, too many lies, Making love can be so crazy
I find myself back here again, Asking you to let me in
You know it's time, we need to change, How can we live with all these maybes?

There are no words that say, no words, To make it go away

I don't wanna see you hurting. Just hold on, Just hold on to me
I don't wanna see you crying, So hold on, So hold on to me

'Cause baby it's alright, I'm staying here tonight, So hold on

Just tell me what to say, To let you know, I'll always stay

I don't wanna see you hurting, Just hold on, Just hold on to me
I don't wanna see you crying, So hold on, So hold on to me

~~~~~~~

I'll admit, I slammed the door first, but I had to do something physical or I would have exploded.

I'll admit, leaving was not the best thing to do, I've just made things ten times worse, but still, if I hadn't I would have said something that would have made things a hundred times worse, so I think I made the right choice.

I don't even know how it started, we were just lying there, not saying anything. We'd been fighting, again, and had ended the argument by having sex, again. We know it only serves as a distraction, the problem doesn't go away while we make love, it just hangs above us, but we pretend it isn't there any more. For a while we're caught in anything but the problem, even though we're inadvertently wrapping it tighter around us.

I can't even remember what we were arguing about, and that's something that I've said too many times. It starts off as a comment, normally truthful but said in the wrong way and it escalates from there.

We stand there, chests heaving, waiting for the other to say something that winds us up even more and makes us more frustrated before stepping forward and closing the gap between us. We fall into each other and kiss each other in a way that could never be seen as loving. We do it because as much as we might dislike each other at that point, we can't live without each other. And as I said, it puts off the inevitable.

And the inevitable happened about thirty seconds after we'd finished. There was another comment and we were off again, battering each other with words. Some we didn't mean, others that we did. The thing is, neither of us could tell which were truth and which were lies, they all hurt, so what difference did it make. They all hurt, always.

And then I left, slamming the door as I went.

I avoid the doors when I return, a few minutes later. Some people would think my attempt at leaving was pathetic, but I never intended to leave. I don't do that, we don't do that. I don't leave because I love her more than anything in the world, and she doesn't leave because for some reason, she feels the same way about me.

As I walk up the stairs I wonder why people think we're perfect for each other, if that were true, surely this wouldn't happen. Then again, we always make it back to each other, maybe that's what they see. Thing is, this can't go on, one day one of will snap and I know I won't be able to cope with what happens afterwards. The thought of losing her terrifies me.

At the beginning, when things were brilliant but overwhelming, I'd worry that I wasn't completely and utterly sure that all the stuff that was going was what I wanted, but then I'd look at her, see her smiling and hear her telling me that she loved me and every single doubt I had dissolved. I felt it then, the terror of losing her, and I feel it now. Just now it seems ever more likely and real.

I walk into the bedroom and she's sitting on the bed, wearing my Canons shirt and surrounded by the duvet.

She looks up at me and we look into each other's eyes. We see exactly the same thing, confusion and frustration that this has happened again, an apology because neither of us quite know why it happened, a more sincere apology for the things we said that we didn't mean, and a promise that we'll try and not let this happen again.

She's hurting, I'm hurting and we both need to stop. I climb on the bed and we hold each other tightly, again, apologising without words as we have before. She's crying, I realise it a second before I feel tears fall down my face, we don't want to see the other upset, so we hug each other tighter.

The tears are for me, for us, for what we did have, and for what we fear may come.

She knows I'm jealous, I know she holds resentment, we tell each other it's fine even though it plainly isn't.

We hold each other, still not saying a word. In a few minutes we'll get up and carry on as if nothing happened. I'll tell her that of course I would never leave her and that I only left to get some air and to give her some space. She'll nod and tidy up the bedroom with a flick of her wand, and then we'll go downstairs and make some food.

Except this time we won't, because I need to stop this. I wish she'd tell me what I had to say to make it better, but I don't need her to, like she doesn't need to ask me. We both know, we're just too scared to talk about it.

I pull back from her and she looks a little shocked. I take her hands in mine and entwine our fingers. We know what the answer is, we just have to be brave enough to do what's right.

I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here, next to her until the day I die.

But the hurt has got to stop.

rontoberfest entry for Team Winter

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 12:33:45 GMT

Title: A Lack of Interference
Author: thesteppyone
Team: Winter! Woot!
Prompts: Hugo Weasley, Order of Dismissal
Pairing/Genre: Gen. Daddy Ron fic.
Rating: M
Word Count: 7,649
Warnings: Implied Rape, Strong Language, Graphic Violence, Hermione not making an appearance, Angst.
A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you, to oncelikeshari and mickle141 for the poking, encouragement and read throughs, and to lnalvgd, iamshadow and still_infinity for the very swift betaing. *hugs* Apologies for the shocking title!

( A lack of interference )

With My Life: Chapter 3 | Rated: M | R/Hr

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 18:55:13 GMT

Title: With My Life
Rating: M
Pairings: Ron/Hermione. Canon as Epilogue to Deathly Hallows
Words: 1861
Warnings: Um, strong language but in a banter-y type way
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this fic are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Warner Brothers, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this fic, as it is for entertainment purposes only.

3 - Caught up by Past Mistakes

...

Chapter 3

‘I have always prided myself in my organisational skills and ability to construct a well rounded, easy-to-use filing system that a whole team of people can use without confusion.’

Hermione was trying her hardest to suppress the small giggle that was building in the pit of her stomach. It really would not be polite to laugh at the person sitting in front of her, especially as they obviously weren’t joking and really did believe that their skills in filing was the best thing they could bring to the job of being her new assistant.

She smiled politely and decided to give the young man a chance to show how much fun he really was, under the ‘easy-to-use filing system’ front.

‘So, what do you do in your spare time, Jasper? Do you have many hobbies, or interests?’

Jasper shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘Er, well I enjoy reading,’ he replied.

Hermione tried to look enthusiastic, she, of course, understood the pull of books, but even she had learned to enjoy other things than literature.

‘Oh really? What types of books do you like reading?’

Again, Jasper shifted in his seat. ‘Well, actually, I enjoy reading books by Muggle authors. I’ve read a few of their classics but I don’t just read those, I read their,’ he shifted slightly in his seat, ‘science fiction.’ His hands made air quotes as he finished his sentence and Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. ‘Have you ever read any of them?’ he asked Hermione.

‘The odd one, when I was younger,’ Hermione replied with a polite smile. ‘I was never really in to sci-fi. So apart from reading, what else do you do to relax, Jasper?'

He though for a second, his brow furrowing in concentration, before looking positively startled.

‘Oh!’ he said, obviously surprised at something. ‘I totally forgot! I do martial arts, too!’

Hermione, smiled disbelievingly. ‘How can you just forget you do martial arts?’

Jasper smiled sheepishly. ‘Nerves, I think.’

Hermione smiled and nodded. ‘So what type do you do?’

‘Kung Fu mainly, but my teacher is a Kickboxer too, so first we learned the basic boxing skills and then progressed to kicks as well. After that, we added in the basic Kung Fu sets and drills. I think combining the two works really well but some people think that combining skills dilutes the individual practices, but the more skill basis you can draw on to defend yourself the better I say.’

Hermione was relieved. Jasper had finally shown her he was more than an efficient filing system instigator.

‘I agree. Do you have a preference of the two?’

‘Well, initially, boxing and kicking is more aggressive, obviously, you learn how to throw punches in the best way, whereas the basic move of Kung Fu, can take weeks to learn. There are so many different ways to hold your hands during various strikes, and you have to know them all before you can start linking them together. Then again, I think my favourite lesson was when we were shown how to grapple with someone!’

‘Grappling? Really?’ Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised. ‘After all you said about precision in both kickboxing and Kung Fu and now you’re talking about having the most fun when rolling around on the floor grappling with someone!’

Jasper laughed out loud. ‘Well, there’s something very satisfying about pinning someone twice your size to the floor with just one hold! Terrifying when I had it done to me though, you should have seen the size of this guy, he was built like a brick shit-hou—’

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth a few times but no sound came out.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled eventually.

Hermione smiled kindly at him. ‘What for?’

He glanced at Hermione before looking at her desk.

‘My language.’

Hermione snorted. ‘Oh please, that’s nothing to what I hear on a daily basis!’

Jasper’s blush receded slightly and he managed a smile.

Hermione checked the clock on her wall and her list on the desk.

‘Well, Jasper, we only have a couple of minutes left before I’m due to see the next candidate. Now, if you can tell me what you can bring to the position of my assistant that no one else can, apart from a top notch filing system then I will add you to the very short list of people I am calling back.’

She picked up her quill and positioned it at an obvious list of numbers, which was waiting to be filled. She caught Jasper’s eye and then looked at the parchment, hoping he would cotton on to the fact that she wanted to write his name on the list.

‘Oh, right, of course,’ he began with a smile. ‘Well, apart from a top notch filing system I can bring reliability and responsibility and someone who considers tardiness the eighth deadly sin. I’m tidy and I work hard and most importantly I make a fantastic cup of coffee!’ He finished his speech with a broader smile, which Hermione returned.

‘Two o’clock suit you all right?’ she asked.

Jasper sighed in relief. ‘Yes, that’s fine, brilliant in fact. I’m due to meet my brother for lunch at twelve and my security check is at one, it won’t take an hour will it?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, half an hour at the most, but be prepared for a lot of form filling.’

‘Really?’ Jasper asked.

‘Really,’ Hermione reiterated. ‘And that’s before you’ve even been offered a job. Should you be successful in your application then you may regret taking it because of the onslaught of parchment that will undoubtedly come your way. Actually, maybe I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m putting you off, aren’t I?’

Jasper smiled. ‘Hardly.’

‘Good.’

Hermione gathered her notes on Jasper along with his original application and the results of any initial information gathering that was mandatory with all applications to the Ministry of Magic and the Magical Law Department specifically. She stood and extended her hand to Jasper who, after standing himself, took it and shook it.

‘See you at two o’clock, then Jasper.’

‘Two o’clock, Miss Granger.’

Hermione’s brow furrowed slightly. ‘Hermione, please.’

‘Hermione it is. See you later.’

Hermione nodded and Jasper gathered his cloak and his bag and left the room, closing the door with a quiet click.

Hermione sat back down and closed her eyes.

Well, he’s been the best so far, she thought to herself. Just four more to go!

She filed Jasper’s notes away in her appropriately labelled folder and took the next application off the pile.

‘Well Mister…’ she struggled to read the appalling handwriting of the next applicant, ‘Ha-, Han-… Haw…Hawthorn?’ she finally asked the empty room.

‘That’s what you said earlier, Miss Granger,’ the painted portrait of a short, rather large man said through a yawn.

‘Thank you, Gerald,’ Hermione replied without looking at the frame.
She stood and walked to the door, opening it and stepping into the corridor.
‘Mister Hawthorn, please.’

…oooOOOooo…

‘Magical Law, Jas? With your history? How did you even get an interview?’

Jasper looked at his brother, slightly annoyed.

‘I doubt my petty thieving as a fifteen- year-old is going to trouble the Magical Law department. Plus your slate gets wiped clean when you come of age.’

‘Surely there's still some record?’

Jasper shook his head.

'If you persistently offend then, yes, there is a permanent record, but I don't think I was that bad, do you?'

'And what about your Muggle police file? I do believe your last encounter with the law was on your eighteenth birthday so that won't get sealed. You're officially a criminal!'

'You're officially a dickhead but I don't go around telling you at every opportunity, do I?'

Jasper watched his brother throw his head back in laughter.

'Why did you want to see me?' he asked, wary of the time and his next appointment with – hopefully – his future employer.

'Mum wants you round this Sunday for dinner. Full roast, two kinds of spuds, the lot!'

'I do have a phone, you know!' Jasper retorted.

'Thank you, Jas, I know that, but Mum decided it had been far too long since we'd graced each other with our presence so insisted I come into Wizarding London to see you.'

'Wow, that was convincing. Where are they?'

'Where are what?'

'The multiple bottles of the 'special' Firewhisky you get from a dodgy bloke down Knockturn Alley?'

'Oh, you really have no faith in me at all do you, Jas?'

'None whatsoever. Where are they?'

Jasper watched as his brother smirked and opened his long coat to show bulging inside pockets.

'But Mum really does want you round on Sunday. It wasn't optional, everyone's gonna be there, and if I'm there, so are these.'
He tapped his coat and the bottles clinked together.

Jasper looked at his watch and realised it was time to make his way back to the Ministry of Magic.

'Oh, look at the time! Unfortunately I have to leave you and your alcohol alone, dear brother of mine.'

He stood and put enough money on the table to cover what both he and his brother had eaten and drank at the small café.

'Aw, cheers, Jas! You shouldn't have!'

'I shouldn't, but you couldn't so I had to.'

He turned and walked down the street.

'See you later, Mills,' his brother called after him.

'Dick'ead!' Jasper called over his shoulder.

'Wanker!'

Jasper saw the disapproving stares of the wizards and witches behind him but couldn't let his brother have the last word. He spun round a smirked.

'Cock'ead!' he shouted loudly before turning on the spot and Apparating to the Ministry.

Still with a grin on his face he made his way through the Atrium and up in the lift to the Department of Magical Law. He was about to sit down on one of the seats in the corridor when Hermione Granger's door opened and she stepped out.

'Oh, Jasper, I'm glad you're here. I need a word with you, would you mind?'

She stepped to the side and gestured for him to walk into his office. He smiled at her.

'Not at all.'

He waited for her to close the door.

'Please, take a seat,' she said, waving the folder she was holding at the chair pulled out from her desk.

He sat in the chair and waited for her to take her seat. He smiled at her but his face fell when she only managed a half smile in return.

He looked at the table and his heart sank. There were three folders on the desk before him, all three labelled Mills – Jasper. He could see that two were still sealed, but one was open and obviously read by Hermione Granger.
Before Hermione had the chance to say anything, he heard himself speak.

'I can explain,' he said, hating the way his words had turned into a plea.

'Then do.'

With My Life: Chapter 2 | Rated: M | R/Hr

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 07:59:04 GMT

Title: With My Life
Rating: M
Pairings: Ron/Hermione. Canon as Epilogue to Deathly Hallows
Words: 1944
Warnings: Fluff to start – not that that's really a warning. Strong language
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this fic are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Warner Brothers, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this fic, as it is for entertainment purposes only.

2 – With My Life

...

Chapter 2 – With My Life

There was something tickling Ron Weasley’s long, freckled nose. He twitched, trying to rid himself of the annoyance but to no avail. Whatever it was, was still there and no amount of nose twitching was going to move it.

He slowly opened his eyes and smiled sleepily when he realised what had been tickling his nose. He wasn’t surprised; in fact, he should have known that it was his fiancée’s unruly hair waking him up.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. He smiled when he remembered it was Sunday and that it didn’t matter what time it was. They had nothing planned; the day was their own.

He looked down at the mass of brown hair that belonged to Hermione Jean Granger, soon to be Hermione Jean Weasley.

Well, he thought, soon enough anyway.

A year wasn’t too long and he had a feeling it would fly by.

She snuggled closer to him when she realised their closeness had been lost.
He smiled and pulled her to him. Her arms moved and her hand slid up his arm. He looked at the ring on her finger and smiled. He would never forget the look of happiness on her face when he had proposed. He had never felt so happy in his life.

‘Wake up sleepy,’ he said quietly with a smile.

He got no response from her. He chuckled.

‘Hermione, wake up.’

She didn’t reply but snuggled closer to him. He shifted his weight again and shuffled down so he was level with her. He leant forward and kissed her top lip lightly. He smiled when he saw her tilt her head towards him. He kissed her again, and after a few seconds, she started to kiss him back. He opened his eyes and watched as hers fluttered open. He pulled back.

‘Good morning,’ he mumbled before kissing her on the nose.

‘Mmm, morning,’ she replied sleepily. ‘I think that’s my favourite way of being woken up.’

‘Mine too.’

‘What time is it?’ she asked through a yawn.

‘Half eleven.’

‘Really? Wow, we slept in late,’ she said as she stretched her arms above her head.

He leant down and kissed her neck. She smiled and brought her arms down around him, trailing her hand through his hair. He sighed, content.

The silence was broken by Hermione’s stomach rumbling. He laughed against her skin and she smiled.

‘Hungry, Hermione?’ he asked.

‘Apparently!’ she replied with a smile.

‘Fancy breakfast in bed?’

‘I fancy what’s already in my bed!’

‘Cheeky!’

She leant forward and captured his smiling mouth in another kiss, but was interrupted by another stomach rumble, this time Ron’s.

They both fell back onto the bed, laughing.

‘I have a feeling we’re gonna be interrupted until something is done about our hunger,’ Ron said, laughing.

‘Yes, I think so, too.’

‘So, breakfast in bed then?’

‘Breakfast in bed it is.’

Hermione went to get out of bed but Ron caught the hand that was pulling the quilt off her.

‘I’ll do it, it was my idea after all.’

He kissed her on the nose and clambered over her, stumbling slightly when he got his foot caught in the quilt.

‘Slick!’ Hermione said, grinning.

‘As ever!’ he replied.

Hermione watched him walk out of the room and sighed contentedly. There was nothing more in the world she loved more than spending a Sunday morning in bed with Ron, the man she was going to marry. It still made her stomach squirm when she thought about them getting married, but for all the right reasons of course.
She closed her eyes and dozed, waiting for Ron to come back upstairs with their breakfast.

She loved Sundays. They didn’t have to do anything special, just lying in bed watching TV, or lying in bed talking was bliss to her. She knew she was lucky, she had found someone who she loved, and he loved her in the same way. They had pledged themselves to the other, and in a year’s time, that commitment would become official.
She watched as Ron walked into the room with a tray laden with breakfast food. She sat up and grinned at him.

They spent the next half hour eating, laughing, feeding each other food, and licking jam of each other’s noses. (Only the first blob had been placed on Ron’s nose accidentally.) When they had finished their breakfast, they watched the TV.
Hermione soon got bored of the omnibus edition of whatever Muggle programme it was and started running her hands through Ron’s hair.

‘You need a haircut.’

‘Do I?’

‘Well, I think so!’

‘Well I probably do then. I’ll get it done in my lunch break tomorrow.’

‘I can do it!’

He turned his head to look at her and raised his eyebrows.

‘You?’

He grinned in slight disbelief.

‘What’s wrong with me doing it?’

‘Well…I dunno, I’ve just never thought of you as a hairdresser, although if you were people would come out with a haircut and an education!’

Hermione giggled.

‘Well I’d try my best! So do you trust me?’

‘With my life? Yes. With my hair…hmmm…’

‘Ten more seconds of ‘hmmm-ing’ and I’m going to get offended!’

Ron laughed out loud. Instead of arguing the point with her, he kissed her.

She ran her hands through his hair again and gently tugged at it, exposing his neck fully to her.

‘Then again,’ she mumbled in between kissing her way up and down his freckled neck, ‘maybe I like it this length.’

Ron grinned and rolled them both over so he was lying on top of Hermione.

‘Maybe I do, too.’

‘So,’ she said, slightly breathless, ‘does your trust in me now include your hair as well as your life?’

‘Absolutely. I trust you with every part of me, I trust you implicitly with my life.’

…oooOOOooo…

‘Well, well, Mister Clark, it seems like things are moving faster than I initially anticipated. You will start doing the work I want you to, tomorrow.’

Clark had been dozing on his mattress but had sat up the instant the door had banged open.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the cell since she had sliced him open but he didn’t think it was too long, a couple of days maybe. It appeared Siona had kept her word; he was, after all, still alive. But she now had a glint in her eye that unnerved him; he came to realise his time was up. No, she wasn’t going to kill him, she had promised him that much, but he knew this was the last day he would have control of his mind and his body. From this day on, he became her property, nothing more than a shell of his former self.

She slowly made her way into the room and the cell door shut behind her with a loud bang.

‘How are we this morning, Mister Clark?’

He smiled at her. ‘Why bother with the niceties?’ he asked softly. ‘Is it to trick me into thinking you are done with me and are about to let me go? Because, really, I’m not that stupid, and I’d like you to remember that, if you would be so kind.’

She surveyed him, the same small smile playing on her lips and she rocked forward and backward ever so slightly. She decided not to comment on his last statement.

‘Your time has come, Mister Clark. Today you will become my willing servant.’

‘I think willing may be a slight overstatement,’ Clark mumbled.

Again, Siona ignored his comment.

‘So, do I get to find out what you’re planning on doing with me. It’s only polite after all!’

‘You will know soon enough. May I ask you a question, Mister Clark?’

He was stunned by her apparent politeness.

‘Why are you giving me a choice?’

‘I do believe you have got the wrong impression of me, Mister Clark. I am not the person of pure evil you seem to think I am. I have manners and I know how to use them.’

‘Manners?’ Clark exclaimed. ‘Oh, that’s classic that is! You expect me to believe you aren’t pure evil when I am here to play the part of loyal, unquestioning pawn in your plan to wreak whatever havoc and immense pain you have planned on the Wizarding world?’

He had stood up during his words and stood directly in front of her. She hadn’t flinched when he had spat his words into her face.

‘You are nothing but a vile, heartless bitch, and I feel nothing but pity for you, because that is all you will ever be. There is nothing you can do that will change the person you are, no matter how many words you use, no matter how many lies you tell. You will always be the same twisted, bitter-’

He never ended his sentence, as he screamed upon her actions. She had brought her wand to his chest, and a searing pain was slowly making its way along his still red scar.

She released her wand and he looked down at his chest, breathing heavily.
He saw the same black pattern and intricate markings that snaked their way down her neck along his scar.

‘You…’ he said, still breathing heavily. ‘You branded me with your…your mark.’

‘It shows you who you belong to, Clark. You’re mine now, and you will be until the day you die.’

He lifted his eyes to her and glared at her, determined to be the last to blink between them. He won the battle; she looked down at the floor.
‘Any last words, Mister Clark?’

‘Yes. Fuck you.’

He smirked.

Her wand moved after anger had flashed through her eyes.

‘Imperio!’

His eyes glazed over.

‘Stand there and don’t move,’ she said simply.

He did as he was told; his only movements were his eyes blinking occasionally.

She closed her eyes and took a step backwards. She placed her wand over his heart and closed her eyes. She concentrated on all that she had planned, every detail ran through her mind and the tip of her wand glowed a dark red.

Clark took a shuddering breath and his head fell back, his eyes closing as it did. A few seconds passed and slowly, the light from the wand tip faded.
Clark’s eyes snapped open and he righted his head. He looked at the woman before him and instantly fell to one knee, his head bowed.

‘I am yours to command,’ he stated simply.

‘Rise,’ she said in reply.

He stood, but still with his head bowed.

‘You understand what you are to do?’ she asked quietly.

‘I do, I will not fail you.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, you know the consequences if you do.’

‘Yes.’

‘You may leave to go and prepare yourself. You have one week. Go.’

He bowed from the waist and then stood up, his head held high. He strode past her and opened the door.

‘Clark!’ she said suddenly, turning around and facing the light that was flooding the dark cell.

He instantly stopped and turned to face his mistress.

‘I still have my question to ask you.’

‘Anything,’ he replied.

‘Of all the things I know about you, I don’t know your first name. What is it?’

‘It is Jonathan.’

She allowed a shadow of a smile cross her lips and breathed deeply.

‘You may go, Jonathan. I shall see you in a week.’

With My Life: Chapter 1 | Rated: M | R/Hr

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 20:54:43 GMT

Title: With My Life
Rating: M
Pairings: Ron/Hermione. Canon as Epilogue to Deathly Hallows
Words: 3005
Warnings: There will be much angst. Swearing. Graphic Violence. There will also be fluff in later chapters! What do you expect, you're reading one of my fics!
Author's note: Yes, I have finally posted this fic I have been mentioning for about a year! lol So paranoid I have been about it that I think I've sent this chapter out to about 8 people, so if you've already read it, thank you for your input. I don't think I've asked anyone to be a permanent beta for this, so if a couple of people want to take it on, I'd be very appreciative.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this fic are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Warner Brothers, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this fic, as it is for entertainment purposes only.

1 – Prologue

...

To have complete trust in someone is one of the most precious things you can possess. It is the easiest thing to say, but is overused and thrown around haphazardly, much like ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m sorry’. How many people can actually say to someone ‘I trust you implicitly’ and even take it so far as to say ‘I trust you with my life’?

But with trust comes responsibility. If someone has complete trust in you, it is up to you to make sure that their trust is not misplaced, because when someone trusts you, they will not question a request, a thought or an action. They will follow you anywhere if you ask them to. Why? Because they trust you.

When it comes to family though, another factor is thrown in: love. Not only has a basic trust always been present between family members, an unconditional love adds a complication. A family member would never hurt you. We trust them with our lives.

It’s not only family members who have this added complication of love. Friends who have fought through all kinds of challenges, who have come through them fiercer friends than before have that same kind of bond, as do couples who have grown to know each other and accepted the way they feel about each other. Love grows from trust; if trust is undermined or taken advantage of, then love is easily destroyed.

How would we feel if the trust someone had in us were being used for another’s gain? How would we feel when we found out we had betrayed someone’s trust? And, more importantly, how would they feel when they found out the same? Hopefully things like that would never happen.

Trust is a powerful thing. A very powerful thing.

…oooOOOooo…

The room was dark and cold. A draught flowed around his ankles and up his trouser legs. His natural instincts tried to move his legs away from the cold, but the ropes binding them to the chair legs prevented him from doing so.

He shivered and winced as his movements caused his raw wrists to move against his bonds, the friction adding to the previous burns he had unknowingly given himself. His head hung forward and his eyes were closed. He didn’t think there was much point in keeping them open, as there was no light to see by. The cloud cover beat the moonlight and the solitary candle that stood in the corner of the room had burned out hours ago.

He had spent those hours, and the ones that had been lit by the single candle, trying to figure out what they wanted with him. He didn’t even know who they were. He had never seen the markings, which were tattooed into the palm of his binder’s hand, but they weren’t necessarily a group identity.

He had had his eyes shut for five minutes when the sound of the door banging open made him jump in his seat. Again his raw wrists rubbed against his bonds, but he didn’t notice as his blood stream was flooded with adrenaline and his heart was pounding in his ears.

He looked up and saw two people flank either side of the door, guarding it in case he tried to escape.

‘I’d be ready for me lads, I’m just about to break out of my bonds and then I intend to run out the door.’

He sniggered at his own comment. He was pleased to see his sense of humour hadn’t deserted him, although he knew it was the fighter in him that refused to let them see how much he was hurting, and how much he actually feared what was happening to him.

The larger of the two men walked towards him and raised his hand. He closed his eyes as the back of the man’s hand met the right side of his jaw. His head snapped sideways from the force of the blow and he left his head in the position it had ended up in.

‘Was that absolutely necessary?’ he asked, once he had determined his jaw had not been broken.

The man walked back to the door without saying a word.

A minute later, the door opened again and the flame light in the corridor silhouetted another figure.

The figure was shorter than the two thugs guarding the door and was cloaked with the hood pulled up. The door closed behind the person and they pulled their hood down.

He looked up at the person and realised it was a witch. Her hair was straight and black and was cut to the length of her jaw. There was a scarlet streak in it, which was in the hair above her ear, and where it settled on her jaw, a tattoo snaked its way down her neck and disappeared under her robes. He recognised the markings as the same as the ones he had seen earlier on the palm of his binder. So it was a group identity, it was just a shame he had no idea which group it was.

She was dressed in black. Tight trousers covered her legs, and a black bodice showed off her figure, drawing in at her waist and pushing her breasts up so they were on display and obvious, even to those who were trying to ignore them.

Heavy boots covered her feet and he could see that metal covered the toes. He frowned when he noticed they were smeared with something. His gut instinct told him it wasn’t mud that had splattered them.

He brought his heavy head up higher so he could look at her eyes. She hadn’t moved since she had stopped directly in front of him, as if wanting him to take notice of her appearance before she spoke.

He took the sight of her in. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old, yet it was obvious she held authority over the other people here.

‘Leave us,’ she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The two behind her turned and left the room, closing and locking the door behind them. She waved her wand and conjured candles around the edge of the room.

‘Well, Mister Clark, how has your stay been thus far? I trust my men have given you a most warm welcome.’

The smile on her face looked innocent enough and matched the sweet tone she had used to address her prisoner.

‘Oh, yes, very comfortable thank you,’ Clark replied. ‘If it weren’t for the ropes which seem to be charmed to get tighter the more I struggle, it would be perfect. Oh, and if you could just ask the one who tried in earnest to shatter my jaw, if he wishes to do it again, could he please try it on the other side, so to even out the pain, it would be much appreciated, thank you.’

He returned her sweet smile even though the skin on the right side of his face protested.

‘I think that can be arranged, Mister Clark.’

She slowly circled him; her steps were slow as if she were positioning each one in a specific place. As she passed him, he caught the scent she was wearing. It was sweet, and, in any other situation, would have caught his attention, but she already had that. He let his head follow her round as she walked clockwise around his chair, but as she walked out of his sight he didn’t turn his head to watch her walk back in front of him.

It caught him by surprise, therefore, when she straddled him and placed both her hands on his shoulders. He kept his head where it was, refusing to join her in her game.

‘It’s very rude to ignore me, Mister Clark. Did your filthy muggle parents teach you no manners at all? Tut tut!’

She trailed a finger down the left side of his face. ‘Look at me,’ she demanded in a calm, but firm voice.

He turned his head towards her, but looked resolutely at his thigh. She sat down on his lap, still he did not move his gaze.

‘No, no, no,’ she said in a calm whisper. ‘I said look at me!’

She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back so he had no choice but to look her directly in the eye.

‘That’s better,’ she replied silkily. ‘Such dark eyes. I sense they hide a sadness, which very few know about. Luckily, I don’t have to be one of those honoured few, I have ways and means to find out everything about you, Mister Clark.’

‘You know, you could always ask, I might surprise you and tell you everything.’

She smiled and ran both her hands through his short hair. Had the situation been entirely different, he may have found the motion sensual; as it was it made him shudder with revulsion.

‘Unfortunately my wanderings into your mind will have to wait Mister Clark, I have other things of more importance to get through.’

She trailed her hand back through his hair and down his cheek. Her hand moved to her neck and softly traced a line down her chest and in between her breasts, dipping down into her corset and pulling out a small phial of liquid.

‘Let me guess,’ Clark said with a smirk. ‘Safest place on earth, because no man would ever want to venture down there?’

Anger flashed through her eyes but she remained motionless.

‘Just so I know, Mister Clark, which side of your face do I tell my friend at the door to hit you on, so to even out your pain?’

‘Well, he’s had a go at my right, so my left, if he would be so kind.’

She pushed herself off him and stood before him. He sighed and then felt the back of her hand hit the right side of his face in much the same way her minion’s hand had done earlier. However, this time it hurt twice as much.

He moved his jaw around, again determining whether it had been broken. It seemed he had been lucky for a second time.

‘When I said the left side,’ he said calmly, ‘I meant my left not yours.’

‘I know exactly what you meant, Mister Clark, but no one insults me and gets to choose his punishment.’

‘Ah, I understand.’

‘Good. Now, on to business. I am going to use you, Mister Clark to give me something I want. Well not directly, but you will play a significant part in helping me achieve my goal. I will give you this, Mister Clark,’ she held up the small phial, ‘and then you will be under my total control.’

‘If you think I’m going to willingly take anything you give me, you need your head seeing to.’

She threw her head back and laughed loudly.

‘You see, here is the ingenious part, Mister Clark. You don’t have to drink it, because I place it in your blood directly.’

Clark was glad the shiver that ran through him wasn’t visible to his captor. He didn’t want her to see that her words were affecting him in any way.

She drew her wand and transfigured the chair he was sitting on into a wooden bench. His bound hands, which had been tied to the back of the chair, were now under the bench and pulling him down so he had to lie on it.

She looked down on him and smiled in that innocent way she had obviously mastered. She stepped forward and straddled the bench, hovering over his lap and smirking at him.

‘You know…’ he stammered through the pain in his wrists. The bonds around them had tightened so much that his hands were tingling through lack of circulation. ‘If we’re going to be this intimate, you could at least…tell me your name.’

‘Oh, how rude of me! I haven’t introduced myself, have I? Well, we can’t have you not knowing the name of your Mistress now, can we?’

‘No, we c…can’t’

‘All in good time, Mister Clark, all in good time.’

She sat herself down on his lap and leant forwards over him placing one hand on either side of his head.

She took her weight on her left hand and with her right slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

‘S…seriously,’ he said with a shudder, ‘I’d really like to know your name.’

She looked him directly in the eye and smiled, not answering his question. She leant back and took a wand out of her pocket.

‘This may hurt, Mister Clark, I suggest you bite on this.’

Clark recognised the wand as his own. He opened his mouth to say something, but the wand was pressed against his mouth and held there until he stopped protesting.

‘Believe me, you will want something to bite on,’ she said almost kindly. Almost.

She took a deep breath, as if concentrating on what she was about to do.

He closed his eyes in anticipation, but opened them as soon as a searing pain down the centre of his chest made his jaw tighten and his teeth dig into his wand.

After a few seconds, he managed to lift his head off the bench, his breathing heavy. He saw a thin red line starting six inches from his collar bone and stopping a couple of inches below the bottom of his sternum.

She had sliced his skin open.

His breathing became faster as he realised what she had done.

‘Don’t panic, Mister Clark, I know exactly what I’m doing. There’s no need to look so scared. Today is not the day you die. When I’m finished, you’ll be as good as new.

Clark wasn’t convinced. He wanted to be able to stare at her through whatever she was about to do to him, but he had started to feel dizzy and was forced to lie his head back down on the bench.

‘That’s right, Mister Clark, you just relax. It’ll all be over soon. Just for your information, there are other ways of administrating the potion, but I find this way a lot more satisfying; you will understand what I mean in a few days time.’

Another white-hot pain went through his chest, but he refused to look at what she had done to him. He knew she had just cut through his sternum, which meant she was only aiming for one organ.

He gagged at the thought of what she was about to do.

Seconds went by. Clark had no option but to lie underneath his captor and try to ignore the pain. Occasionally he looked up at the woman. She seemed to be calming herself down, like she was concentrating on something and wanted to make sure whatever she was about to do was done correctly. Two minutes later, she moved and held the phial over his chest.

His eyes widened and he spat out the wand in his mouth.

‘What…do…do you w…want with…m…me?’ Clark managed to stammer through the pain that seemed to be consuming every part of him.

‘I’ve already told you, Mister Clark, you are going to get me something I need – indirectly, granted – but your part is not insignificant in the slightest. You are the first link in my chain, you should feel very privileged at the thought.’

‘I’m…l…lying h…here with my ch…chest open and m…my heart exposed…and I’m s…supposed to feel p…privileged?’

‘Yes,’ she replied simply. ‘You are.’

And with that, she poured the potion onto his heart.

He was expecting an intolerable pain, but it actually felt warm as the liquid seeped into the muscle.

His breathing slowed a little and she smiled.

A minute later, she had healed his bone and closed the wound on his chest, although there was still an angry red line where she had made her mark.

He was confused as he stared at the line on his chest. He felt nothing abnormal.

He was about to open his mouth when the bench underneath him transfigured back into a chair, pushing him back into a sitting position.

She smirked at him and turned to walk back towards the door.

‘What does it do?’ Clark blurted out.

She turned and faced him, a slightly confused smile on her face.

‘I don’t feel any different,’ he continued. ‘What does it do? You said something about…about…being under your control. How?’

‘It lies dormant until I activate it with a spell, Mister Clark, as you correctly remembered, from that moment on you are under my command. It works in the same way the Imperius curse does, but it has a major advantage over the unforgivable curse. There is no chance of fighting this potion, once you are under my command, you stay under my command, until the day I lift the spell.’

He couldn’t speak, but his mind was working frantically. Suddenly his primary school, muggle biology flooded his brain.

‘But, my blood will be cleaned, the potion will be filtered out of my body in a few hours.’

She smiled a proud smile. ‘It would if it didn’t take the form of the various types of cells in your blood stream, ingeniously disguising itself so it can never be filtered out of your blood, Mister Clark.’

His heart sank, he was beaten.

‘So when do I become your unwilling slave then?’ he snarled.

‘Oh, in the next few days I should think. We are not quite ready for you yet, but we will be soon.’

She turned and walked to the door. She opened it and stepped through it, smiling as she took one last look over her shoulder.

‘You still haven’t told me your name,’ Clark called to her.

‘So I haven’t,’ she replied, still smirking. ‘My name is Siona.’

She turned and took a step out of the room.

‘Siona what?’ Clark asked.

‘She turned and looked at him, no trace of a smile on her face.

‘Siona Lestrange.’

Specimen Report Number 537/B | Neville | Rated: PG-13

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 20:21:09 GMT

Title: Specimen Report Number 537/B
Pairings: Neville and er... something...
Rating: PG-13
Words: 355
Warnings: Does this count as crack!fic? Personally I think not, but it's more funny than squicky. Promise.
Author's note: Neville Helmetfest fic! Last day as ever! lol
Thank you to lnalvgd. oncelikeshari and mickle141 for the read throughs! *hugs*
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this universe, I am merely playing in it.

Specimen Report Number 537/B

...

'Research file number five three seven slash B by Neville Longbottom, recorded using the Ministry approved Note Taker Quills.

'Specimen found in what is believed to be the deepest part of the Hogwarts lake, it will be returned tomorrow afternoon.

'Specimen didn't seem to react badly when taken out of the water, no defensive reaction or the such like and the change in water type hasn't obviously affected the structure, the behaviour or the texture of the water plant.

'As yet, the plant has no name and is unidentified.

'Test number one will hopefully determine if the plant has any defence mechanisms, although considering it didn't defend itself when I uprooted it from the bed of the lake, I'm not expecting anything too drastic. Although, famous last words and all…

'The – what look like spines – I'm guessing aren't defensive as they are, in fact, soft to touch, but maybe if I put some pressure on where they join the rather thick leaves… no, nothing. Okay, maybe if something sharper touches it… I'm using a quill to touch the plant… no, apparently that doesn't do anything either.

'Okay, I'll put more pressure on the leaves with my hands, squeezing the leaves to see if that produces a reaction… hmm, apparently not.

'So, none of the simple defence tests produce any reaction from the plant, it either doesn't feel as if it's properly under attack or it doesn't actually have any-…oh, hello, what's going on here?

'The plant's leaves have started elongating and have extended out of the water, and are reaching towards me, I'm not making any sudden movements, and I'm trying to think what has caused it to do this… I did start stroking the leaves gently as I was wondering what to do next, now-… oh…

'The – what can only be described as 'tentacles' – have wrapped around my legs and are curling around and moving slowly up…

'It's not a tight grip, but still, slightly concerning. I-… oh Merlin… The tentacles have moved under my shorts and are…um… mmm…

'They…the, er… wow that's, slightly disturbingly good… um… oh, sweet Merlin!'

Report terminated at 19.36.

United We Stand | H/G H/R | Rated PG-13

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 22:44:22 GMT

Author's note: In summer last year, my big sis, oncelikeshari went a little bit insane and decided to write a fic based solely on prompts given to her by her readers and churn out a chapter a day (except where she went away to V Festival, which is a fair enough excuse). In the end it was a 75 chapter fic and was bloody marvelous. Being a Harry/Ron fic and me, being a die hard Hermione and Hermione/Ron fan, I loved that she kept Hermione in the fic in quite a big way, but also made her very angry when Ron broke up with her. AT some point I've always wanted to do a Hermione POV of Ron breaking up with her to be with Harry, and Shari let me play with her Hermione from Unity in the Community. So here it is, my versionn of what Hermione was thinking and feeling throughout about half of the wonderful fic by oncelikeshari a.k.a solstice_muse.

Title: United We Stand
Pairings: Beginnings of Hermione/George, Ron/Harry, mentions of past Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3,211
Warnings: Absolute shedload of Angst
2nd Author's Note: This has not been beta'd so apologies for any mistakes. I think my tense go weird at some point, I tried to fix, but then my head went fuzzy. Pointers always welcome. Or a beta! :D

United We Stand

...

I had gone from utter elation to the depths of confusion and despair in the time it took Ronald Weasley to say five words. Apparently we could no longer be together, but I was still waiting for the why.

At first there was just denial and me believing I could talk him round with words and reasoning. I'd be able to reassure him that whatever insecurities he had were exaggerations of thoughts he had that originated from his lack of belief in himself.

Because what he just said couldn't be true. Of course we could be together. It was everything I ever wanted, ever needed. Some small part of me wished that wasn't true, wished that I didn't feel I needed someone else to make me happy throughout my life, but I think it's true. I knew Ron would make me happy, even through the bad times that there were bound to be.

Well, apparently not now, according to the man himself.

My face pulled into a smirk and the words 'don't be so ridiculous', were on my lips, but I didn't say them. Something stopped me from talking.

There was that look in his eye. Not one of insecurity or confusion but one of determination to see something through, whatever the consequences.

It was then that the fear and pain ran through me. I went cold with dread. This really was the end. The end of something that never really got started. The end of something that I had planned out so meticulously in my head. There was supposed to be laughter, exploration, learning, comfort and a wonderful journey together, wherever it took us. There would be a wedding and children and then we would grow old together. A cliché? Of course, but still everything that I wanted. I had planned a life that revolved around Ronald Weasley, but he had just removed himself from the centre of it.

The centre of my world had just disappeared.

Tears burned my eyes and I saw him set his jaw in that way that he did when he knew he was in for a rough time.

I think that more than anything set off the anger inside me. He knew me inside out, more than he would ever admit. He had more than likely gone through my probable behaviour in his head and tried to come up with ways to calm me down.

Well, he wasn't getting away with breaking up with me that easily. I'd make him feel some of the pain I was feeling.

I'd never slapped anyone so hard in my life.

…

I had continued to be angry for longer than I had ever been or had ever imagined myself to be, but it was the only thing that stopped me bursting into tears every few minutes. If I concentrated on being angry, then I had no time for my insecurities to overwhelm me, or no time to miss his presence in everything I was doing.

Not that I was particularly enjoying what I was doing. After returning from Australia people had immediately come out of the woodwork yet again, trying to wheedle details and information out of me on our year from hell and how it all really ended. I was officially invited to the Ministry twice and it was as I was leaving the second time that a comment from someone I didn't really know, sent me into panic and then more anger. I saw red.

I shouldn't have found out that the love of my life was missing, from a Ministry employee who presumed I'd be out looking for him with the rest of the search party.

I walked away from her without saying a word and rushed back upstairs to demand to be told everything that was going on with Ron and, most importantly, where Harry Potter was at that exact moment.

As I learned all I needed to know about the 'missing Community Auror' I wanted to strangle Harry Potter there and then. There was nothing that could comfort me. He had kept all this from me. How could he?

It was a good thing for Harry that my hand was still hurting me from the last time I punched him.

…

I was not coping well.

I didn't care that they were obviously in love and needed each other to function properly, and I hated them both for being such idiots.

Except that I did and I didn't.

For the occasional three seconds that I would forget he had broken my heart and left it in pieces on the floor, I would look at the both of them and see that their eyes sparkled when they were talking, and that they obviously adored each other. And then I would remember I was still in love with him and I became bitter again.

Not only was I seeing this and trying to ignore the anger that was still inside me, and still concerning me, I now had to cope with the fact that Ron may never be able to touch me again.

Regardless of the bullying throughout school, I had always managed to stay proud of my blood status. At that point in time, I hated it. What I wouldn't have given to be a pure blood and be able to hold him, rock him and comfort him as he cried.

Granted, I could touch his hand without causing him searing pain, but what if it got worse? What if this had been a brief respite in his condition?

My time for kissing Ron Weasley passionately had passed. But what if I could never kiss him again in any way?

If my heart was broken before, those pieces just shattered into millions of pieces.

…

As it happened I could comfort him as he cried, but I had to be so careful as to where my tears landed on him.

For a second I had thought twice about comforting him, and I wish I could say it was because I was concerned about the physical contact, but it wasn't. However, after a couple of seconds of him clinging onto me as if his life depended on it, I made my decision. I had to be bigger than my demons for Ron's sake.

He believed he had deserved what was happening to him, that it was karma coming back to, well, to put it in a very Ron way, bite him on the arse. But that was ridiculous, I just had to tell him that and make him believe that this had nothing to do with what had happened recently.

And then he said the words that both broke me and made me stronger.

You’re the whole left side of me Hermione, you complete me and make me whole and I lean on you for support when I’m flailing around with my right hand like a twat!

Somehow I managed to not fall apart right there and then, I had already decided that I had to be as unselfish as possible, however much I wanted to rant and rave and have everyone fawn over me and tell me how they were sorry for me and they couldn't believe what had happened. I hated that a part of me wanted that, granted it wasn't a very large part at all, but still, it was there. So instead of trying to find hidden meanings in that statement that he really did want me instead of Harry, I just carried on the conversation as normal as possible.

Because, really, there were no lines to read between with Ron, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way to him – a sentence like that could only come from someone who is intelligent. What I mean is, there were no hidden meanings because he had told me exactly what he meant, he needed me to understand, that he needed me, just not in the way I needed him.

And that was that. It was the end of all … that. It was unhealthy for Ron and me.

You can’t wipe away my tears anymore...and not just because of that vile potion.

We fell asleep together, and I didn't wake until Arthur walked into the bathroom the next morning. I carefully woke Ron and he went back to his bed, but I went down stairs. George followed me into the kitchen and made me a mug of hot chocolate.

'You look like you could use it,' he said with a grin, before realising what he had said. 'Er…I mean…'

I smiled. 'George, it's fine. You're right, I do need it, last night was…'

George sat down and waited for me to finish my sentence.

'Draining.'

'I'm…' George looked unsure whether to talk or not, he came to the decision to carry on. 'I'm sorry, Hermione.'

I took a sip of my drink.

'What are you sorry for?'

'You've…you've lost someone you love but you're still there for them at every turn. It can't be easy… and… I'm sorry.'

'It's not for you to be sorry, George. Not that-' she took a deep breath and sat up straighter in her seat. 'There's no need for blame in this. You can't blame someone for how they feel, it's not Ron's fault, he didn't mean to hurt me, I just fell in love someone who didn't love me in the same way.'

'He does love you, though,' George said quietly.

'I know he does. I just have to learn to love him in the same way.'

George nodded and I managed a smile. He leaned over and patted my hand awkwardly.

'It gets easier, you know. Very slowly, but it does get easier. Apparently one day it stops hurting all together.'

A frown crossed his face and he pulled his hand back across the table.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared into my half full mug of hot chocolate.

I reached across the table and felt him tentatively return the squeeze I gave his hand.

'Let's hope that day isn't too far away then.'

…

I hadn't meant for it to slip out, but it had just fallen out my mouth when I was concentrating on something else. I hadn't had time to think about the verbal slip, I had other things to worry about – fooling my parents to believe me and Ron were still together for one – but now that had just about been pulled off without a hitch, I had chance to think about it.

Was I with George? It was a simple enough question, but had the most complicated answer in the world. Not even a month's worth of studying would get to an easy answer to this particular question.

It was just a huge mess really. I knew part of me was still in love with Ron, but part of me was starting to be happy that he was with Harry. I liked spending time with George, but was I just trying to find a replacement for the person who I presumed was going to be with me for the rest of my days?

I had hardly had time to think about it when George had arrived at the flat. I should have realised this was going to happen, it was his flat after all and he had told me to wait upstairs while he dealt with an awkward customer in the shop.

'Knut for your thoughts,' he said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen.

I smiled and was glad when he smiled properly in return.

'Well, at least you're smiling, means you can't have been thinking about anything too bad.'

'Nothing too horrific, no.'

'What's on your mind? Not that you have to tell me, you know the rule, I'm here if you want to talk, but I'll never ask.'

I smiled and folded my arms on the table.

'Um…well…actually I…I was thinking about you.'

'Me? Should I be concerned?'

I chuckled. 'No, not at all, it's just me trying to get things straight in my head.'

George folded his arms like I had done and stared at the table.

'You're wondering what, if anything, is going on between us and whether you can trust your feelings because of…everything that's been going on.'

I didn't mean for my mouth to drop open, but no one had ever taken words directly out of my mouth before. It was both wonderful and very unnerving.

'I…well…' I sighed and put my brain into the talking coherently gear. 'How did you know?'

George smirked a little and looked at me.

'Well, firstly, I'm obviously a genius!'

I smiled and nodded in agreement.

'Secondly, you wear your heart on your sleeve when you're most vulnerable, however much you try not too.'

Again I nodded, but my smile slipped.

'And thirdly, I know because I've been thinking the same. I've been trying to work out what I feel, and I think I've done that, but, more importantly, I've been trying to work out what you're feeling and thinking.'

'If you could let me know, I'd be very grateful!'

My smile was fake and George knew it. He didn't smile but he continued to look at me. He unfolded his arms and managed to free my hand from between my arm and my body. Not that it took much persuasion. I needed some sort of comfort.

'Well, I could tell you what I think, but surely you need to tell yourself what you think, even if it means admitting you don't know everything!'

My smile was real this time but it soon faded. I took a deep breath and looked at him.

'I…I like spending time with you, George, I really do. You're kind and you care about me. You let me cry on your shoulder and you make me laugh when I need it. In fact I…I think I miss you when I don't see you from one day to the next. I don't think it's…I don't think…okay, this isn't going to make sense but I'll say it anyway. Sometimes I think it's just like missing a friend, but other times I think it's more than that. Sorry, I'm not being very coherent.'

'Did I say you had to be coherent? Working things out means you shouldn't be coherent at all! Say anything you need to, regardless of whether you think it makes sense.'

'See! You say things like that and it's exactly what I need! I need someone to tell me to do things how I need to do them as opposed to what I think I should do. You understand me, George, and I really like that. I really like you.'

I stopped to take breath, a little embarrassed by what I had just said. My hands were sweating but George didn't lessen his grip on my hand.

'There's a part of me, that wants to take the step that takes things further with you, but I don't know…'

I stopped, I really didn't know what I was thinking when it came to the possibility of becoming romantically involved with George. I pulled my hand away from him.

'Can I tell you what I think?' George asked quietly.

I nodded.

'I think…you're still in love with my brother, I think you're determined to try and move on from being in love with my brother, I think you like me enough to maybe want to take things further, but you're also scared stiff that you're doing it for all the wrong reasons. It scares you that you can't determine whether you're doing it for the wrong reasons or not and you don't know if there will ever be a right time to start getting into anything more involved than friendship. And I think you're worried about what people will think if they see us together in any capacity. As much as you hate it, you care about what people think.'

Tears had started to fall down my cheek. It was horrifying to have someone lay out all my insecurities in front on me, but I knew deep down that I needed it. I put my head in my hands and started to cry. I heard the chair scrape along the floor and then his hands were on me, encouraging me to stand up. I obeyed and fell into him. He gathered me up and hugged me as I cried, as he had more times than I'd like to admit.

He shushed me and told me it was all right.

We stayed standing and he started whispering into my ear.

'I know you're scared, confused and hurting, but so am I. As far as I can see, there's nothing wrong with us being all those things and more together. You don't have to worry about not knowing what you need or want, I understand that you don't know, just like I understand that that's driving you mad in itself.'

I managed a soft chuckle in between my tears.

'You don't have to know everything, Hermione, and it's not a failure in either not knowing or admitting you don't know.'

'Doesn't…doesn't mean I…I have to like it!'

George chuckled. 'No, you don't, that's fine. You're allowed not to like admitting not knowing something.'

I pulled back and wiped my cheeks with my hands. We stood in silence for a minute, occasionally meeting each other's eye.

'Um…' I began without thinking about how I was going to finish that sentence. 'So…er…'

I stopped and rolled my eyes at myself.

'Does that half-arsed attempt at a sentence have an end, or even a beginning or a middle?' George asked with a grin.

'Possibly,' I replied.

'Oh, okay, I'll wait for it then.'

I gathered my thoughts and tried again.

'Thank you, for…well, understanding and knowing. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, George, and I'd never intend to do that. But I just don't know at the minute if I'll end up doing it without realising it. This whole situation is just strange and weird and I don't-'

He kissed me, which very effectively shut me up.

It was over before it had really sunk in as to what had happened.

'You were thinking too much, I had to stop you before your head exploded.'

'George, I-'

'No, I don't know if that means anything, it could be a taste of things to come, or it could just be a friend trying to help out another friend. We don't and can't know, Hermione, but I refuse to live my life without risk or living as if I'm wrapped in cotton wool. Life's too short. I'm reminded of that every day and I don't ever intend to forget it.

'I know that you'd never knowingly hurt me, but lets not limit what we do just because of a maybe, okay?'

I had started to cry again, but I nodded my head and managed a smile. I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt him stroke my back and my hair and I sighed. One of my many worries seemed to lift off my shoulders, and I felt that it might, eventually, all be okay.

Lucidity | Luna | Rated: T

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 22:11:01 GMT

Title: Lucidity
Prompt: Luna's thoughts are most lucid after orgasm
Rating: T
Characters: That would so give it away!
Words: 693
Warnings: Kinda fluffy, general.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, I am merely playing with them. I shall return them when I'm done!
Author's Note: Just under the wire as usual! :D Thanks to my big sis for the read through and the weird creature name!

Lucidity

...

She suspected that some people would think her situation very strange. But she didn't, and that's all that mattered.

Some people would think what she had just done was wrong. But she didn't, and that's all that mattered.

There were so many other, worse things people could do, she didn't think that helping her friends realise their feelings for each other was a bad thing in any way.

She had always known that he had feelings for another, even for the short time they had been together. They had sort of fallen together in the madness of the end of the war, both not really knowing how to help or what to do, but doing the little they could to help in some way.

As they had made love he had closed his eyes against hers, and she knew why. He apologised to her over and over, but she just held him and comforted him as tears left his eyes.

Tonight it had been different though, because there was someone else there with them. The true object of his affections.

She imagined it was quite hard to admit you had feelings for your best friend, especially when the some of the world around you weren't very accepting of that type of relationship.

She had to admit she had planned it, although she never really had the minute details all sorted out, where was the fun in that, after all?

Two simple invitations and a charmed bottle of Firewhiskey did the trick, although she may have to deny the fact that the drink was charmed.

She looked to the left of her and saw the two of them lying there, one arm draped over the other's waist and both looking so very content. She rolled onto her side and blinked when a pair of blue eyes looked back at her.

'Hello,' she said quietly.

'Er…hi,' Seamus replied.

'How did you sleep?'

'Fine…thanks.'

'Would you like me to leave?' she asked lightly.

'Well…I…do you want to leave?' he replied.

'I don't really mind either way, both leaving and staying will bring an interesting day. I'm up early enough to appreciate the song of the hollow-tonsilled chisel warbler.'

'Right, okay, um…right.'

She sat up.

'I shall leave you two alone, you have to talk about last night and what it means for you from now on.'

'Fer feck's sake, Luna, ye could give a fella a break first thing in the mornin'!'

'But it's important, for both you and Dean that you talk about what happened between you!'

'You were involved as well, ya know!'

'I know I was, but I'm not anymore, and that's okay. It was always about the two of you and the way you felt for each other. You just didn't know it at the time. Hopefully you do now.'

Seamus shuffled so he was propped up on his elbow facing Dean.

'Yeah…I think…I think we do.'

'Good. Then I will leave you alone.'

Seamus half nodded and swallowed hard.

She picked up her clothes off the floor and turned to look at the two of them.

'Whaddif he decides it was all a mistake?' Seamus said in a whisper.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at Seamus through wide eyes.

'Why do you think he'll decide that?'

'I don't, it's just, it's happened so fast, an'…what is he regrets it all?'

'Believe me, Seamus, this hasn't happened fast at all for him. He's been waiting a long time for this. He won't let you go very easily.'

Seamus nodded and watched as Luna turned to leave the room.

'Luna,' he said a little louder than he wanted. He checked Dean was still sleeping before turning back to her. 'Thanks for…this…you know…what you did.'

'I didn't do anything, Seamus.'

Seamus smiled.

'I know there was somethin' going on with the whiskey I was drinkin' last night. I know my alcohol, and that was not how Firewhiskey is supposda taste. How did you come up with that?'

'I find, Seamus, that my thoughts are most lucid after orgasm. You should see if yours are as well. Goodbye Seamus. Goodbye Dean.'

He Could Smile Like This Forever | R/Hr | Rated PG-13

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 13:52:38 GMT

Title: He Could Smile Like This Forever
Timestamp from: The night before Chapter 5 of 'The Seven Ways I Cry'
Requestor: oncelikeshari
Pairings: Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Words: 816
Warnings: Fluff, may cause tears if you've read 'The Seven Ways I Cry'
Author's note: Thank you to lnalvgd for the speedy beta. If you've not read TSWIC then you can read this as a bit of Ron/Hermione fluff, no problem, but I think it'll mean a bit more if you've read the story it comes from.

He could smile like this forever

...

He loved feeling like this; content, happy, and peaceful. His life was everything he wanted it to be. He had a job he loved and could get passionate about, but most of the time he could leave it at work and have a life outside the office. And then when he got home he came home to the most beautiful woman in the world.

He didn't care if she was inky from writing, hot and bothered because she was cooking, or tearful because she had been watching one of her favourite programmes on the telly, or reading one of her favourite novels that was guaranteed to make her cry.

She had turned away from him in her sleep, her hair was a large mass behind her and one of her hands held the other in front of her face. He had stopped teasing her about turning away from him, but he had played it up for about a month, perfected his 'puppy dog pout' as Hermione had called it, and managed to wind her up a little.

He loved her so much. He loved that they'd been married for five years, well, it would be five years tomorrow. At the time, some people had voiced their concerns that they were too young to get married. If Hermione had listened to them and wanted to wait, he wouldn't have minded. He knew they would get married, the intention was always there, but if Hermione had said 'lets wait a few years' then he would have. But she hadn't, so they hadn't, and she had been Hermione Jean Weasley for five years. Nearly.

He shuffled nearer to her and gently kissed her neck. He couldn't help but smile against her skin as memories of the previous hour came back to him. He adored the way she kissed him and it turned him on so much when she sucked on his neck. He loved the way her body fitted against his, the way her skin felt, soft and warm, and the way she could drive him crazy with one look.

They had taken their time, had kissed for what seemed like hours before moving on. What was the point in rushing when they had all the time in the world?

Hermione stirred in her sleep and rolled onto her back. He propped himself onto his elbow and looked down on her. He couldn't help but lean down and kiss her gently. She didn't respond, but he didn't mind, he could watch her sleep for hours and he'd never get bored.

He rested his hand on her hip and drew circles on her skin with his fingertips. After a while she shivered and tried to move herself away from the sensation. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

'Sorry, my darling, didn't mean to tickle you in your sleep.'

Hermione mumbled something incoherent and Ron kissed her. He suppressed a giggle, knowing that Hermione would have something to say to him if she knew he was quietening her with a kiss in her sleep, as well as doing it when she was awake. She could hardly talk though. He hadn't finished casting the contraception charm earlier before she had kissed him and obscured his view of his spell casting with her hair.

He moved his hand to her stomach and left it there. Their conversation from the other night came back to him. They had talked about what characteristics they wanted their children to inherit. He had loved talking about them, even though 'they' were just a thought in the future. He had felt a twinge of disappointment when Hermione had said 'well, maybe one day.' Why 'one day'? Why not soon? Why couldn't they make that step now? They were happy, they were settled and they had had each other for five years. Wasn't now a good time to make that commitment?

He thought about becoming a dad and what it would mean for him. Images filled his mind, all of them happy and it was then that he made his decision. He would ask Hermione tomorrow about the possibility of starting a family. He didn't think she would need persuading. Obviously he was expecting some sort of logical reason to come back at him, but he knew that she wanted children, even though she had shrieked rather loudly when he mentioned numbers like four and five.

He glanced up at the alarm clock and realised he had to be awake in four hours time, so it would be a good idea to go to sleep. He lay on his side next to his wife and gently covered her waist with his arm.

'Sweet dreams, my love.'

He closed his eyes and smiled. He had everything to smile for, and the rest of his life to smile through.

He could smile like this forever.

All I Need | G | Harry

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 21:03:36 GMT

Title: All I Need
Prompt: Harry's first desk ~~at work~~
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Harry Potter. Molly Weasley.
Words: 1200
Warnings: Major Angst. People have become teary reading it!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, I am merely playing with them. I shall return them when I'm done!
Author's Note: Written for the helmet_fest2008's Harry month. Thanks to leviathan0999, lnalvgd and oncelikeshari for the read throughs and betas. *hugs* Oh and thanks to One Republic for being played when I needed a title! lol

( All I Need )