I want to thank Mizaya SO much for all her amazing help, and of course Aoi Me!
Disclaimer: I clearly don't own any of the HP characters - they belong to JK Rowling; nor do I own the lyrics to "Summer Sunshine" by the Corrs. I just simply own the plot and the words that string it all together.
Chapter 1 – Summer Sunshine
Hermione Granger walked briskly out to the street, glancing over the slanted rooftops at the sky's changing color. It was dusk and she had been held at work longer than she should have been. Again.
She shook her head to get rid of the imminent annoyed thoughts and contemplated whether to Apparate or walk home. It was a cool evening and wasn't raining, rare for London in July, so Hermione decided to take advantage of the gorgeous weather and walk home to the flat she shared with Ginny Weasley.
Well, sort of shared.
Had shared, until yesterday when Ginny had decided to accept a momentous offer of extra Auror training in South Africa for two years, requesting that Hermione please not rent out her room, as she expected to be back every six months or so to visit.
Hermione sighed and shook her head. With Harry suddenly quitting his promising job as an Auror last month to accept an offer as the Seeker of England's National Quidditch team, and never knowing where Ron was due to the unpredictability of his post with the Department of Mysteries, Hermione felt like she was stuck in a rut.
Everyone's changing, I stay the same,
Her daytime job was Director of the Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry, which she enjoyed most of the time. But recently it seemed she was bored more often than not, listening to one goblin's complaints about another who took his leprechaun gold. Rolling her eyes unconsciously at her most recent and seemingly ridiculous case (Honestly, she thought, the leprechaun gold disappeared, it wasn't stolen!), Hermione let her mind wander to the prospect of another job that she worked three times a week and whenever she had some free time. She'd been going back to Hogwarts for a year now, training three nights a week with Minerva McGonagall, who had refused to let Hermione continue to call her "Professor" after she graduated, to become the new Transfiguration teacher after Dumbledore retired and McGonagall became Headmistress.
However, judging by the rigorous training Hermione had been getting – that, to be quite honest, didn't always seem to have anything at all to do with Transfiguration – and McGonagall's insistence that it would be "soon," and with the lack of action towards her being hired, Hermione was beginning to get both impatient and doubtful that anything of the like was going to happen before she turned fifty. Hermione wasn't about to give up just yet, being twenty-five and stubborn about getting what she wanted – though it wasn't as if the thought didn't cross her mind consistently on any given day.
With the combination of her current job and the time-consuming training, she didn't get many chances during the week to socialize with anyone. Merlin, I haven't even gone to a bar in what seems like years now, Hermione mused ruefully. Hermione continued to stroll down the street, slowing down as she passed a café to gaze in at the happy families, couples, and groups of friends enjoying an early dinner.
Hermione chuckled to herself as she walked on. If that wasn't a clear metaphor of her life glaring straight at her, then she was Luna Lovegood; she was on the outside of the world, looking in.
I'm a solo cello outside a chorus,
On the weekends, she usually tried to convince Ginny to do something, but the girl had bloomed quite rapidly after leaving Hogwarts and seemed to be out with a different man every weekend, leaving Hermione to fend for herself. It was rare event that she could reach Harry, and Ron was entirely unpredictable.
Ron. Well, he's another matter entirely. The thought flitted through her mind almost before she could grasp onto it. Despite his being practically unreachable these past few years, recently, at least, Hermione had managed to see the redhead more often than Harry by far. And our encounters are always much more... interesting. She shuddered in a sudden burst of warm wind, thinking about the last time they had met. No, you shouldn't be thinking about that, or him... It isn't anything, remember?
I've got a secret,
Hermione shook her head. "'Mione, I'm not sure we should tell anyone about this... I mean, it doesn't mean anything, right? But still... you can guess what they'd all say." His deep voice echoed through her head like it had been yesterday, though in reality that had been around eleven months ago. He had said that to her right after the first time it had happened. Why are you thinking about all this now? He's gone for two months at the least. But deep down, Hermione knew why he was always first in her thoughts, and it wasn't only because she missed him. That, however, was really another matter entirely. She couldn't help thinking about him after all that had happened between them in the past eleven months or so... despite the fact that overall, their time together couldn't add up to more than one month, at the very most. But nobody else knew what had been going on. As far as everyone else was concerned, she hadn't seen him any more than anyone else had, and that was virtually not at all.
Hermione blew out a puff of air as a slight smile flew across her face. It had been some time during last August, the end of yet another hot summer, when something had changed their relationship forever.
It's time for me to tell that you've been keeping me warm.
Ron had been back in London for a much longer time than usual, around a week by then, but only had a day or two left before he was going to be called to duty once more, doing whatever he did (of course, he couldn't tell them what it was – and that annoyed Hermione no end) for his job.
Hermione had been in a relationship rut for twenty-four years. Not counting Viktor Krum, that is. By the time she realized that the guy she had been waiting for wasn't about to do a thing, and that Viktor had been willing to be her guy, Hermione was cemented in her role as Viktor's "friend." She had had a few "relationships" after school, if you could even call them that, but nothing that lasted more than a couple of dates. Pathetic, really, she thought.
Ron had never so much as hinted to her that he was going out with other women before this, though she knew from Harry that he had about as much experience in that department as one person could have. She usually tried to avoid him finding out she had never had a real boyfriend, though she was fairly sure that he knew that anyway, after being a fellow member of the "Golden Trio" for so long.
The second-to-last evening before Ron left town, Hermione had been puttering around her and Ginny's flat with all the windows open to let in some air. She could have used magic to cool down the air inside the flat, but she was borrowing the stereo of one of their Muggle neighbors and listening to it as she made dinner. Always being the one to think of consequences, she didn't want to risk tampering with it by using too much magic in its vicinity.
Suddenly the door to the flat flew open and in tramped Ron, angry as a bull being charged by the matadors. Hermione turned around sharply, ready to hex whatever ingrate had dared intrude upon the summer serenity that she had been absorbed in, but when she realized which "ingrate" was sitting huffily on her couch, a faint blush swept across her face. She had known for years that she harbored feelings for Ron, but was positive he was oblivious and felt nothing of the sort for her. At that moment, he was the last person she wanted sitting in her living room. Clothed only in a thin, white cotton dress, Hermione was quite aware of how scarce it seemed compared to her normal wardrobe. She only wore it on rare occasions, and that day had been one of them – a combination of laundry day and extreme heat.
She calmed herself, assured that he wouldn't even notice if she was wearing nothing more than a smile, and timidly walked around to face the couch. "Ron? What's the matter?"
He was sitting slouched on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest and a frown spread sulkily across his face. Blue eyes flickered up to acknowledge her presence, but then flashed back to an insignificant spot on the floor in what seemed to be annoyance, though not necessarily directed towards her. After waiting a minute or two for a response and receiving only inaudible mutterings from he who refused to look up from the floor, Hermione began to seat herself in the chair nearest to the couch. Just as she was sitting down, Ron began to talk quite loudly while still not looking at her, frightening Hermione so much that she bounced right back up off the chair again.
"Why do you girls have to be so bloody difficult? I mean, it isn't like the world revolves around you, does it? Bloody hell, I have a life too!"
Ron paused, breathing heavily, and Hermione used this opportunity to intervene.
"Girl problems?" she inquired wryly, trying to hide both her amusement at his mood and her apprehension. Somewhere within herself, she was steeling her heart for the conversation she least wanted to have - speaking to the man she had feelings for about his love life was not the most enjoyable discussion she could think of. In retrospect, she supposed she could have avoided the conversation altogether, but her unwavering sense of best-friendship wouldn't have let her even if the thought had entered her mind.
Just sweet beginnings and bitter endings.
Ron finally looked at her, carefully keeping his eyes on her face, and nodded resignedly. His anger didn't fade, though.
"One minute, we were sitting on her couch, and then I said I was going away in two days for a couple of months. She asked when exactly I was getting back, and when I said I didn't know, she blew up at me, started ranting about fucking one night shit, or some other bloody ridiculous crap!" Ron sucked in air and looked abruptly at the floor again, his face turning a faint red.
Hermione kept her composure and said tiredly, "Ron, you should have told her ages ago that you would be leaving. I'd guess she thought you were having a bit of fun with her before you –"
"Well what if I was? She doesn't need to know every bloody thing I..." Ron's rant faded out as he caught the look on Hermione's face. He grimaced sheepishly and scooted along the couch towards the end near her chair to rest his arm on the armrest. "Fine, maybe I should have. It's just that...with this job and all, I don't have the time for the sort of commitment that most girls are looking for, you know?" Exasperated, he sighed and leaned far back into the couch, staring out into space. Hermione nodded sympathetically, though she didn't really agree with what he was saying.
They sat there in silence for awhile, Ron continuing to brood morosely. Hermione quickly discovered how close they were really sitting. Her gaze slipped over to where their legs could have been touching had she moved four centimeters to the left; she could almost feel the heat radiating off him. Shut it! she reprimanded herself. You're best friends, only best friends, nothing more.... Trying to avert her thoughts from subjects that were rapidly making her sweat, Hermione looked out the window closest to her to gaze at a hazy London. The heat must have been affecting most people because they were all either at home or sitting inside the cool cafés. Hermione's gaze fell on the street right next to hers, and without even trying, she could count at least four coffee and tea shops; had she bothered to stand up, she was sure she could see even more. Ridiculous how many Muggle coffee shops have started to spring up everywhere, two even on the same block! Hermione mused. When she had been distracted long enough, Hermione unconsciously turned her head to see how Ron had been faring after his outburst.
With a little jump, she realized that he had been watching her. But the look that Ron wore on his face was not one of amusement about her distraction, nor one of anger anymore, but perhaps – No, why would it be that? – curiosity.
In coffee city...
Hermione forced a half-smile, trying her hardest not to blush. "What are you looking at, Mr. Weasley?" She tried to sound nonchalant, hoping he would take that as a joke of some sort and not notice how weak it was.
Ron didn't smile, but continued to study her intently. Slowly he leaned forward and said quietly, "Have you ever just wanted to... you know... be able to do things... with someone you felt comfortable with... but then not have to worry about commitment or a relationship afterwards?"
Surprised by his answer, Hermione answered automatically, "I can't say I've ever thought about it. Why?"
She had not realized that Ron had been inching towards her as she spoke, and their legs were now not only touching, but resting against each other as well. Hermione realized this with a jolt and tried her hardest to keep her face impassive.
Ron leaned his head on his hand thoughtfully. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
Mildly insulted, and even more surprised at his sudden interest with her non-existent love life, Hermione sniffed. "Well, not that it's any of your business, but I have had a couple. None that have been serious at all, though." Hoping he wouldn't ask any more than that, Hermione put the rest of her concentration towards ignoring the wonderful feel of his strong legs leaning against hers.
"Hmm..." Ron looked intently at her, then leaned even farther into her. "I've heard some of the guys at work talk about something called, er, 'friends with benefits,' which is where you... well, fool around with a friend, and it's simply that – fooling around. No relationship to worry about."
Afraid she might know where the conversation was leading, Hermione, for the first time in her life, chose to play dumb. "So?"
By now their bodies were no more than two feet apart, and Ron was looking at the floor in between Hermione's knees. He picked up her hand, and still looking at the floor, began to talk, while gently rubbing his thumb over it. "I was thinking... that... if you wanted to... we could try it. I mean, it would solve my run of bad girlfriends, and I could teach you about... well, stuff you might need to know." Ron paused. "You know, for when you... get a boy- er, relationship or such."
Hermione couldn't say a word. Ron was looking straight into her eyes now and she couldn't turn away. She had never felt more conflicting emotions at once in her life – eagerness and apprehension and desire and disgust, all crowding together; it made her feel light-headed.
Before she could say a word, Ron leaned even closer, so that Hermione could feel his warm breath on her face. Her dress was sticking to her back, the summer air not helping to cool the room at all.
Ron's deep blue eyes were boring right into her; Hermione couldn't have moved even if she had wanted to.
Slowly, he leaned his head even lower and brushed his lips against hers.
Fire shot through her entire body; she had never felt anything like it in her life.
...We borrowed heaven.
Soon, all too soon, Ron broke the contact. Though the kiss had lasted for barely more than five seconds, both of them were breathing a little deeper, a little harder.
Hermione looked at him, stunned.
Ron smiled slowly. "What do you say?"
In that moment, all of Hermione's inhibitions flew out the window. She forgot all the implications of what this would mean for them, for everyone around them, for anything except the fact that Ronald Weasley was so close to her that she could practically feel his heart beat through his shirt.
She smiled back. "I'm up for it if you are."
Ron let out a breath he seemed to be holding in and grinned. "Great, then!"
Before anything else could be said, or she could regain her senses, Hermione leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
Not missing a beat, Ron returned the kiss that quickly grew more passionate. He pulled her onto his lap so that her legs wrapped around his abdomen, her body pressed as close to him as she could get with clothes on. They continued to kiss fervently, Hermione running one hand through his hair with the other gripped his shoulder for balance. Ron had one hand pushing on the small of her back, the other caressing her upper thigh. Ron moved his head down to kiss her neck, allowing both of them to take a breath, and Hermione leaned back, encouraging him.
Suddenly the kisses stopped and Hermione looked down, a foreign and confused look gracing her flushed skin. Ron's blue eyes were staring deep into hers, making her feel weak at the knees (luckily, she was not standing up). He smiled mischievously and stood up, her legs still wrapped around his midriff, supporting her body weight with his arms. Hermione gasped at both the sudden movement and the surprising hardness accompanying the position change, where she was almost positive there hadn't been only a moment ago.
Ron leaned forward and kissed her, Hermione forgetting all else but his lips as he slowly walked them to her bedroom. She didn't notice where they were going, so lost in his kiss was she, until Ron bent down to lay her on the bed.
Hermione steeled herself for another interesting discussion, realizing what was likely to happen in the next few moments, and scooted further back onto the bed, giving Ron some room.
With a smile, Ron moved over so that he was lying on top of her, and they kissed again. Not for long, though, because Ron left her lips to trail kisses down her body, slowly inching her dress's hem over her stomach. As he reached his destination, and Hermione began to lose what little coherent thought remained after his ministrations, Ron slowly slipped her knickers off and gently pushed her legs apart to massage her with his fingers. Then he stopped moving completely, staring with a slightly horrified look on his face. Hermione sighed and braced herself for the questions she knew were coming.
Ron swallowed and looked up at her. "You're... you're a virgin, 'Mione?"
"Yes," she replied simply. "I told you I'd never had a serious boyfriend before. What did you think?"
Ron's gaze flicked back down and then turned to an unidentified spot on the far wall. "I dunno... I guess I thought that... maybe..." He trailed off, and Hermione realized what he might be implying. She pulled herself out of his reach and tugged her dress back over her knees, delicately tucking her legs underneath her.
"What, Ron? That I just go out and shag random men off the street? I never –" Ron's hand over her mouth stopped her before she could get into a rant; he had had a lot of practice in heading off her anger before it truly got started.
He sighed, his hand keeping her from intervening. "No, that's not what I meant. It didn't really register before, I guess. Bloody hell... you should have told me before."
Hermione brushed his hand away and said in defiant tone, "You didn't ask."
Ron kept looking at her intently, with perhaps a touch of regret on his face. "Yeah, well... maybe this isn't such a good idea after all... You want your first time to be with some... whatever. I'll just –"
It was Hermione's turn to put her hand over his mouth to keep him from talking. "No, Ron. I think it would be better for me to lose it to someone I... I trust, as opposed to some guy I don't know that well, or, well, something to that effect." She paused and took a deep breath. It had been close there for a moment. She had almost let slip her feelings towards him. "I still want to, if you do." 'Want to' was a bit of an understatement at that point.
Don't give it back, I've never felt so wanted,
Ron studied Hermione's face. For what, she wasn't quite sure. She tried to stay as impassive as possible, given the circumstances. Then he smiled his wonderful smile and moved towards her once more on the bed. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and whispered, "I'll be gentle," with a hint of a growl buried deep in his voice. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Ron kissed her again, and soon they were both lost in the heat and passion of the summer evening.
Back to her senses in the present, Hermione realized that she had stopped walking a while ago and was just standing on a street corner, leaning against a lamp, fantasizing about that night. Her face flushed an even deeper crimson when she realized that there were people staring at her as she stood there. Grinning embarrassedly, she ducked her head and continued walking back to her awaiting home, in the same state as always: Empty, with no one to welcome her back.
Are you taking me home?
She began to fade back into memories of later that night, when they were lying on the bed, tangled together with the sheets, starting to flow into sleep.
Ron's head was resting on her shoulder, buried in the crook of her neck. She could sense that he was moments away from slipping off into his dream world. "'Mione, I'm not sure we should tell anyone about this... I mean, it doesn't mean anything, right? But still... you can guess what they'd all say." He yawned sleepily.
Hermione continued to stare at the ceiling. The realization of what had just happened, and what all this meant, finally hit her like a cannonball. "Yeah, fine," she said, as calmly as she could manage, trying to keep the tears out of her voice.
Ron turned over on the bed so that he was lying on his back and murmured, "Good."
Hermione shifted so she could watch him to make sure he was sleeping, his chest rising and falling steadily. She couldn't keep the tears from leaking out of her eyes.
With a sad sniffle, she whispered, "Ron? Are you awake?" No response. "Ronald?" Nothing. Good, he's asleep. She moved over so that she was lying against him.
Hermione traced a finger sadly around his face and neck, through his messy red hair, her tears falling freely. She smiled through her tears. "I love you, Ronald Weasley. I always have and I always will." It was nothing more than a whisper; she could barely hear it herself. She had been hiding that for years, and now... Now look at what you've done, you prat. You've agreed to have sex with the man you love who doesn't even know that you love him – meaningless sex with your best friend who you just so happen be in love with. Bloody hell! You idiot. Plus he's leaving in a day...
She lay her head down and fell into an uneasy sleep.
Hermione had spent the next day with Ron, alternating between helping him pack and making love whenever they had the chance. All of the logical part of her brain tried to dissuade her from continuing their "friends-with-benefits" relationship, but whenever his eyes looked deep into hers as if searching for something, or he accidentally brushed up against her, she forgot everything but him, almost as if she had no control over herself anymore, a feeling extremely foreign to her. She would never forget that night, after the good-bye party at the Burrow, when he asked her to walk him out to the door.
You tell me you have to go...
She was close to tears, for more reasons than Ron knew. They were standing there on the porch, and she was avoiding his gaze. Eventually, Ron tipped her face upwards, looking deep into her eyes and said, "I'll come back to visit you soon, okay?" She nodded tearfully, not noticing the emphasis he put on the word "you," at the time.
Hermione smiled, putting her best face forward, and gave him a brief hug. "Take care of yourself, Ron Weasley," she said before she wheeled around and walked briskly into the house, leaving him to stand out there, looking after her.
Back in the present again, Hermione realized there were actual tears sliding down her face. She sighed and continued walking; she had stopped again, this time by a park bench near her house.
She had thought about Ron a lot in the week after he had left, trying to figure out what she should do. By the weekend, Hermione had almost completely made up her mind to tell Ron that it was off the next time he came to see her. Little did she know that she wouldn't keep her mid-summer resolution.
That Saturday, a week and a half after that first night, Hermione was out walking in the park near her and Ginny's flat, trying to relax. The sun was shining and the weather still hot, perfect for taking a stroll.
In the heat of summer sunshine,
She meandered down the path with no particular destination in mind, when suddenly a redheaded man appeared out of thin air directly in front of her. Hermione leapt back in surprise, but on realizing who it was, she grinned. Though, when she remembered her resolution, she sighed audibly.
Ron didn't seem to notice anything but the grin, and he wrapped her up in his arms, murmuring into her hair, "I couldn't stay away. I can only be here for a few hours, though – I was able to slip away when my boss wasn't looking." He pulled away to look into Hermione's eyes.
As she stood there looking at him, gazing into his deep blue eyes, feeling the press of his body against hers, she realized that her mind had been made up a long time ago on this subject, that her recent ponderings would never help her now. Hermione would never be able to refuse Ron anything he asked of her. No matter what her mind said, her heart and body ignored it and did what they knew she truly wanted. Deciding to continue with the greatest façade of a relationship she had ever experienced, Hermione smiled up at Ron. They made love in the park around ten minutes later, and then again back in Hermione's flat. Before Ron left, two hours after he had found her, they took a stroll together in the park.
The weather was the same, perhaps a little windier, but still sunny and warm, and they were walking along the path where Ron had burst in upon Hermione. He turned to her with a look of intense regret in his eyes and said, "I'll come back as soon as I can, okay?"
Hermione smiled; she was getting better and better at hiding her true feelings. "Sure, great. Don't work yourself too hard," she added with a forced laugh. Ron still looked upset; Hermione assumed it was because he didn't want to go back to work.
Nudging him lightly on the shoulder, she added with a chuckle, "If you don't make it back soon, don't worry – it isn't like we're going out or anything. I'm just your good ol' friend Hermione, right?"
Much to Hermione's confusion, Ron's frown deepened as he muttered, "Yeah... my friend..." so low that she could barely hear him. He quickly hitched up his smile and pecked her on her cheek. "Right, see you soon, then." With that, he Disapparated, the 'crack' resounding in the still dusk air.
Hermione stood there watching the spot where Ron had just been standing, tears pooling in her eyes. At the time, she didn't know how long it would take him to return again, but she had hoped it wouldn't be long – it had been bad enough when they weren't sleeping together, but now...
I miss you like nobody else, in the heat of summer sunshine,
So lost in her thoughts was Hermione by this time that she had completely given up on trying to get back home and instead sat on a park bench; the same park, as a matter of fact, in which all that had happened.
The weather had changed abruptly while she walked. What had began as a cool evening was starting to turn into a warm twilight. A hot breeze blew around Hermione as she sat on the bench, contemplating the decisions that had led her to the present.
After those initial encounters, Ron would visit her once every couple of weeks; the only time he let anyone else know he was in town was during Christmas, when he stayed in London for five days to celebrate the holidays in the company of family and friends, Hermione included, of course. After most visits, he reminded her not to tell anyone, as if she ever would.
Harry and Ginny both knew about Hermione's feelings for Ron, but she was sure that they would never approve of this arrangement and would probably confront Ron about it, utterly humiliating her and ruining whatever she and Ron had, the little that it was.
Ron would come and they would make love, occasionally chatting about this and that if he had the time. And then he would leave, usually with nothing more than a "Goodbye," sometimes an accompanying kiss – and they were the only ones who knew.
I'll kiss you, and nobody needs to know.
Hermione sighed and watched a male duck in the pond a little ways off follow a female around. At seeing the female paddle away from the male as fast as she could, Hermione had to laugh. Ironic, how she could never seem to do something as simple as that: Paddle away from Ron.
Well, maybe not paddle, exactly...
Hermione had spent a lot of time before all this began thinking about Ron, but even after all that, he was almost always in her head. She initially had trouble concentrating at work (though it wasn't like she really needed to concentrate at her job in any case, as it wasn't the most challenging post), and McGonagall was constantly berating her for messing up on spells and lesson-teaching practice, things that normally required no effort for her to succeed. Though Hermione hadn't realized this the first time it had happened, being "friends-with-benefits" with Ron completely altered almost every other aspect of her life.
Now that you've left me, there's no returning,
Especially what was left of the romantic part of her life.
Because they didn't know the developments Hermione and Ron had in their "relationship," whenever they could, Harry and Ginny tried constantly to set her up with other men to help her "get over" Ron. Ginny was the worst of the two, since she lived with Hermione and it was harder to escape her.
Hermione usually avoided these meetings determinedly, mainly because it annoyed her to be set up. Now, however, if Ron had time to do more than fool around, he would ask how her love life had been improving. Of course it hadn't changed, but it embarrassed her to admit this to him and she hated lying, so Hermione started going on some of the dates Ginny and Harry set up for her. A few of them even progressed to the sixth date, and with two of them, who happened to be unusually attractive (by general standards) and catch her at moments of particular desperation, they had sex. Nonetheless, it ended up being meaningless sex, in every sense of the phrase. In the mornings, Hermione would wake up feeling ashamed, like it was wrong for some reason, and ended both relationships after only a few encounters. Plus, it didn't help that each of these guys was complete rubbish compared to when she and Ron made love. She rarely had an orgasm, and there was little to no true passion in it. All she wanted was Ron – who she had, but then at the same time, didn't have.
I keep comparing, you're always winning,
It took all she had in her not to cry all the time after she and Ron started this. The fact that he was in it solely because of lust was killing her. Hermione knew this from the start, but the awfulness of it kept growing inside her, like a tumor inside a rapidly decaying cancer patient.
Out of the past for a moment, Hermione couldn't help but start to cry as she gazed at the darkening sky. It's too hard, but I know I'll never be able to change it. I just can't. Oh, bloody hell, now I'm crying... oh, I hate this part of it. This has to be the worst feeling in the world. I miss him so much, but even if he were here next to me, he'd still be a million miles away. Hermione tried to hide her tears, unsuccessfully, from the people passing by. All she got from them were looks of pity and shakes of heads. I love him so much it hurts.
I try to be strong but you'll never be more wanted, will you make me a home?
Without knowing it, Hermione's thoughts became words as she cried, speaking into the wind. "Is it too much to ask, for him to love me back? Too much to ask that he have even a fragment of real emotion more than friendship? We've been best friends for what, fourteen years now, and he's never shown anything other than friendship towards me... wait, no, and lust." She laughed through her tears. "Great, just great. Lust. That's what I want him to feel towards me. Well, okay, so the lust isn't bad... but I'd prefer love, if he has it in him somewhere. I want a real relationship, damn it, not just sex!"
"Does this man know how you feel, child?"
Hermione jumped about a foot into the air as her head spun to see an elderly, white-haired Muggle woman sitting next to her on the bench. "Pardon?"
The lady laughed softly, her kind brown eyes twinkling. "This man who is hurting you, does he know how you feel about him?"
Hermione breathed deeply. "No. And I can't tell him. It would ruin what's left of our friendship."
The lady studied her, then sighed, only a trace of her smile left. "From what I heard of your soliloquy, I think it might be too late for that, dear." The woman looked down at her watch and adjusted her shawl around her shoulders before standing up gracefully. "Well, I'm off. I just stopped to rest my feet a moment. Good luck, child. And if I were you, I would really consider telling him the truth. I'm sure he can't read your mind, unless he's some kind of wizard or something." With a last kind smile, the lady walked regally away down the path into the park filled with other people. Soon she was lost amongst the trees.
Hermione could only stare after her. Wizard or not, that man could never read my mind. She's right though... but I could never tell him. I can't. A little voice in her head laughed at her. Ah, so you were put in Gryffindor for nothing, then, eh? She shook her head. Great, I'm still talking to myself. The voice sniggered again. Well, at least it isn't out loud this time. Hermione rubbed her head, as if to force the thoughts away, looked down at her watch, and with a start, realized it was an hour and a half after she had been let out of work. Glancing quickly up at the sky, she discovered that it had become dark without her notice.
Hermione stood up determinedly and brushed away the tears that still remained on her cheeks. Despite all efforts to the contrary, though, her thoughts once again drifted to that irresistible red head.
It rarely occurred to her to try and stop him when he left. Once, though, after a particularly wonderful night of making love in every room of the flat except Ginny's (who happened to be at some other man's house, probably doing something similar with him), Ron had to leave very early in the morning.
He was so cute, trying not to wake me up, Hermione mused, walking briskly towards the flat.
She had guessed what he was doing as she lay in bed, and reached out to grab his arm as he walked past. Ron had started, then looked both happy and upset at the same time to see her awake.
"I'm sorry, I was trying to let you sleep -"
Hermione hushed him and pulled him onto the bed next to her. She yawned sleepily. "Don't go yet."
Ron sighed. "I have to, they called me back early."
Hermione stumbled into a sitting position and ran a finger along his cheekbone and then through his hair. "Stay anyway, for me..."
Don't tell me you have to go...
Half asleep, she didn't realize that she was showing more of her true feelings towards him than she would normally allow of herself.
Startled at this show of tender affection, Ron sighed deeply and stared right into her eyes. Though she barely remembered it, as if it had been a dream, Hermione vaguely recalled seeing a look in his eyes that she had never seen him wear before. He bit his lip and pulled her to him in a warm embrace. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry."
Hermione was lost in his scent, the feel of his breath against her neck, his hands pressed firmly on her back. Suddenly, he pulled away to stand up. Ron bent to pick up his bag, and with one last regret-filled look towards her, he Disapparated.
In the heat of summer sunshine, I miss you like nobody else,
Hermione sighed deeply, still walking home. She wasn't even sure if it had happened, now that she thought about it... it could have just been due to her overactive imagination, and the fact that she dreamed about Ron a lot, whether he was there with her or not. The next thing she remembered from that morning was waking up to an empty bedroom, hearing Ginny banging around in the kitchen.
In the heat of summer sunshine, I'll kiss you, and nobody needs to know.
She turned a corner, on which was the first of three coffee shops on the same street, and nearly ran into some woman carrying a shopping bag. Hermione apologized profusely and helped the woman pick up anything she dropped. Hermione muttered to herself, "Ronald Weasley, you cause me more trouble than you're worth." She paused. I take it back; you're worth every moment.
To sweet beginnings and bitter endings, in coffee city, we borrowed heaven,
She reached the door to her building, fumbling around for her keys. Her thoughts floated back over the fourteen years they had known each other, and bits and pieces of so many memories flashed through her mind. A redheaded eleven-year-old boy with dirt on his nose... an arrogant redheaded fourteen-year-old boy accusing her of "fraternizing with the enemy"... a redheaded eighteen-year-old boy with his hands in the air shouting, "I made it! I got the marks to go into the Department of Mysteries!"… a redheaded twenty-two-year-old man laughing with her at a Muggle carnival... a red headed twenty-four-year-old man growling to her, "I'll be gentle…." No, she wouldn't trade any of that for the world.
Don't give it back, winter is coming and I need to stay warm.
Hermione knew there would never be anyone else for her other than Ronald Weasley. For the moment, she would have to take what she could get.
After trudging up the stairs, she unlocked the door to her flat and threw her bag on the couch. Before doing anything else, she wiped a hand across her forehead and muttered, "Merlin, it's hot in here." The air immediately cooled down to a more bearable temperature at a wave of her wand.
The heat…
Hermione walked to her room in order to change out of her work clothes into something more comfortable. Upon opening the door, she saw something that made her smile bigger than she had in over two months. There, sitting on her bed, was none other than the man she had been thinking about for the past two hours straight – Ronald Weasley.
In the heat of summer sunshine, I miss you like nobody else,
He grinned and stood up to walk over to where she was standing to give her a hug. She smiled into his chest. "Hey, you."
He pulled back and she looked at him. He was slightly tan and looked fairly tired. A concerned look swept over his handsome, freckled face. "Had a rough day, 'Mione? You're three hours later than usual."
Hermione smiled. "Same, same, I was just a little delayed. How about you?"
Ron grinned. "Great, now I'm here with you. They let me off for the day. Actually I got here around four hours ago."
Hermione frowned. It was always a shame when the little spare time that he had was wasted, and she tried to tell him so. "You should have gone to visit Harry when I didn't come home. I hate to waste your fr–"
Ron stopped her by putting his hand over her mouth. "Forget it, you're here now. That's all that matters." They smiled at each other and Ron dipped his head down to lightly kiss her neck. "I hope you're free for the rest of the night..."
Hermione shuddered at the touch of his lips to her skin. Her mind was screaming at her to break away, run, that this wasn't helping anything, to stop it now, before it was too late – but it had been too late fourteen years ago, the moment she met him on the Hogwarts Express. She forced her mind to shut off, and let her heart and body take over. "You bet I am, Ronald Weasley," she growled quietly, and moved his head up to kiss him with all the fire she had in her.
I kiss you, and nobody knows.
Nothing could break that kiss. Not earth, wind, or fire would have been able to tear them apart as tongues explored mouths, almost as if there truly was no tomorrow – for all Hermione knew, there might not be.
The flat was slowly getting warmer again, despite the cooling spell Hermione had put on it five minutes ago.
In the heat of summer sunshine, I miss you like nobody else,
In a matter of seconds, all clothing was discarded, and Ron picked Hermione up to carry her to the bed, never breaking the earth-shattering kiss. They lay down, Ron on top of her, and Hermione could have sworn she was in heaven. Their lips never broke contact as Ron entered Hermione, both of them moaning into the other's mouths.
As she reached her climax, Hermione tightened around Ron, causing him to empty into her, their lips still working together, only unintelligible sounds of ecstasy to be heard from either. Ron slowly pulled out of Hermione, who put a hand up to keep his face where she could reach his lips. With one last kiss, Ron lay down next to her, head resting on her shoulder, stroking the side of her face and neck with his hand.
In the heat of summer sunshine, I'll kiss you…
They lay there together as their breathing returned to normal. Hermione smiled and ran a finger over his arm while gazing contentedly at the top of his red-haired head.
In that moment, Hermione decided one thing: For the next few hours, there was no wishing, no crying, no thinking, only her and Ron. Reality could wait.
...and nobody needs to know.