Title:9 times out of 10, Just Shut up
Characters:Hermione and Ron
Prompt:77 – What?
Word Count: 2631
Summary:Ron/Hermione. Missing Moments, A story of how Ron got the book that helped him so much in the DH and him first putting it's contents to use. She shows up in chapter 5, but he has to have time to read the book before she shows up so it's humor at first and then Romance.
Author's Notes:I started and abandoned this about 6 months ago but I've decided to revive it as I work on my prompts. Minor changes have been made but not much except for proof reading, which I always do a horrid job on. *shrug*
Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches.
9 times out of 10, Just Shut up.
I need you.
That was all Ron had needed before bolting out the burrows kitchen door. He didn't notice the ink smudges from the obvious tear drops that had since dried and had caused the paper to wrinkle oddly. Nor did he think to tell anyone where he was going. He simple read the only five words that the love of his life need ever say before he went to her.
Ron apparated to the park near her house she'd told him to go to in case of emergency. Her house was unplottable now so she couldn't just show him on a map where to go. The loud crack as he apparated was heard by a few neighbors but it went unnoticed as if it had just been a car back firing. She'd told him to head West on Willow Way until he came to a white house with green shutters and daffodils in the garden.
Ron stepped out of the stand of tree's he'd landed appeared in and ran in what he hoped was a Westerly direction. His long strides carried him past a set of swings, a slide and a see saw that, if he'd not had more pressing matters to attend to he would have imagined a young Hermione playing on. He glanced frantically around until he saw two streets meeting at a corner at the end of a grassy field. The sun was beginning to set behind the signs he was now squinting at, blinded by the sun sinking behind it. He sprinted, pushing his long legs to carry him quickly toward the street signs. It wasn't until he was within 7 or 8 meters that he could clearly read the white wording on the green sign. He darted down the road on his left, pumping his legs faster now that he was sure of his direction.
How far was it? How long would it be until he saw the house, until he would see her? His mind was in a blaze of panic. Red house... blue house... white house, wait it has blue shutters... tan house. The adrenaline pumping through his body was causing his mind to race more and more every second. Every moment that he hadn't found her was sending him into a deeper spiral of dizzying panic. He had to know if she was okay. He had to know if she was in trouble or if she was hurt. She would've only had asked him to come on so little information if she'd had no other option. What would cause her to call on him with no explanation of any kind? His insides shook with terror not knowing if she was alright .
Off in the distance he could make out a huddled figure sitting on a curb in front of a white washed house. His legs burned in protest but he lengthened his stride and sped up, pumping his legs feverishly to get to her. When he was within half of block of her he began shouting her name and the figure moved and he could distinguish a mass of bushy brown curls lifting to look in his direction. The sun was still behind her so she was in silhouette but he knew it was his Hermione.
"Hermione!" He called again. His heart quickened as she took and ran toward him. They met in the middle of the road and she threw herself into his welcoming arms. He instantly felt the tears streaming down her cheeks as she buried her face into his neck. He held her sobbing body tightly, hoping that by holding her in his arms he could somehow hold her together and keep her from crumbling into bits.
Several times he had to resist the temptation to speak. Chapter Two: 9 times out of 10, Just Shut up and Listen had explained, in great detail about how men say the wrong things most of the time. Simply by filtering out most of the things you say before you say it, you increase your odds dramatically. It also explained (slowly and in bold print) that in times of tears, hug first and ask questions later. So he heeded the advice and bit back his need to know right now. He took some comfort in the knowledge that whatever it was, she needed him.
He had no way of telling how long they stood there in the middle of Willow Way. Time meant nothing, it was an ever expanding immeasurable moment as he held her in his arms feeling her sob against his chest. He pressed his lips into her hair and ran his hand over her tangled locks. It wasn't until a car trying to get by honked impatiently that Hermione pulled her head up.
"Oh," she squeaked out sheepishly. She leaned into him and they walked back to the curb she'd been sitting on, Ron supporting most of her weight as they went. She began wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand and Ron fished out a handkerchief from his pocket. She took it without a word as they sat down on the sidewalk.
Ron suddenly realized for the first time in his life how long and ridiculous his arms were. He had no idea of where to put them. He had just participated in the most intimate of embraces with her, holding her against him, touching his lips to the top of her head, it was the closest they'd ever been. Now though, as he sat down next to her, his arms felt foolish.
Should he put his arms around her or had that moment passed? Before he could decide what to do he was sitting a foot away from her and she'd stopped crying though her eyes were still blotched red and puffy from her outburst. Some how she was still beautiful through, perhaps a little more so because of it. He'd never seen her like this. She'd always stomped off to her dorm room or into the closest girls loo. Never had she allowed him into the intimate space that was her pain. He rested with his arms on his knees, ready to hold her again at the slightest provocation.
"I'm so sorry Ron." Hermione's words broke their long silence but before she'd even made out the entire sentence he was stopping her.
"No, just," He pleaded, desperation dripping from his words as he hoped she wouldn't retreat behind her thick protective walls. "please don't apologize. Just talk to me, tell me what's going on."
His words released the flood gates keeping everything inside Hermione and suddenly it all spilled forth in a jumble of words, "...to protect them... ...when I don't return in September... ...to keep information out of the wrong hand... ...just look at Neville's parents, all they'd wanted was information from them..." He was only catching part of what she was saying but it was enough. She was going to do something to keep her parents from being found by Death Eaters. He cut her off when she started off into magical theories of something he couldn't quite make sense of.
"Okay, let's keep them safe, but how?"
Hermione's expression was of pure relief at his words and despite the circumstance that had him there, which he still wasn't clear on, HE, Ron -hand me down and never do anything special- Weasley could bring that look of relief to her face, which moments ago had been distorted in despair.
"I don't think it'll be enough to hide them. Hiding will just prove that their's something worth looking for. They need to go abroad, they need to..." Her voice caught in her throat. "They need to forget me." Her forehead creased, her lips pressed together slowly forming a frown and she once again dropped her chin and she let the tears that had welled in her eyes again spill over.
He froze again, unsure of what to do. He wanted to hold her again, but wasn't sure how to close the space between them. He lifted his hand tentatively, it was like his hand was moving in slow motion. He placed it on her wringing hands. He half expected her to shove it away, or recoil at his touch. Instead she held still, no longer wringing them in anguish. They sat like that for a moment and he felt her shaking calm under his touch. Her body stopped convulsing in sobs and eventually she looked up at him and the tears weren't spilling over anymore.
"What do we do?" He was relieved his voice sounded more confident then he felt.
She explained her plan, give them new memories and send them to Australia. She told him about finding them work and a place to live. She had everything down to the tiniest detail figured out. She seemed to do better as she talked, falling comfortably into the facts and planning she'd obviously been working non stop since returning home. When she was done they sat silently again for a moment. A thought that had been nagging Ron since she'd started her explanation bubbled to the surface in their moment of stillness.
"What do you need me for?" he asked quietly. "I have no idea how to even begin half the stuff you just said needed to be done." Hermione frowned again and she looked like she was carefully constructing her next words.
"I don't need your help, I just need you here. It's not that I won't be able to preform the magic alone, I just can't do this alone." She looked down at her lap sheepishly and even though he knew it was hardly the time for it, his chest swelled with joy at her declaration.
Ron was anxious as he sat alone in her room. She had insisted she wanted to perform the actual charms without him. That knowing he was there for her was all she needed. It seemed so odd to be waiting there. In the 6 years they'd been friends he'd never been in her room. She'd been in his room at the burrow, she'd come up to his dorm but never in all that time had he been in a space that was hers. He had imagined what it would be like a few times, what teenage boy hadn't thought of a late night alone with the girl he fancied. But he'd spared no thought to what it would look like in her room. Just what they would be doing. Ron blushed at the remembered fantasies and unconsciously his eyes were drawn to her bed.
She had a large dark wooden four poster bed, "Advantage of being an only child." Ron said to himself. There was no thick hanging like at school to close you off from a crowded dorm. It was open and airy a sheer material winding it self up the two posters at the head leading to a canopy of fabric draped gracefully above. All of her bedding was a crisp white.
Her room was tidy, a rather large odd black plastic book sitting on her desk with a cord coming out the back. She had a bookcase surrounding her window, covering the entire wall and a few plush cushions placed there forming a comfortable bench. It seemed fitting that her room would have a reading nook nestling her within her books.
After the survey of her room was done Ron was bored. He checked his watch, it had been 20 minutes already. His heart went out to her, his mind conjuring images of what she was doing. He was brought out of his reverie by a quiet rapping on the window. He crossed her room quickly when he saw it was Pig tapping his beak against the glass.
"What are you doing here?" He asked the miniature owl when he'd managed to open the window.
In answer to his question pig stuck out his leg which had a tightly rolled piece of parchment secured tightly to his leg, hoping slightly to keep his balance. The owl began hooting happily and fluttering around the room as Ron unfurled the letter.
We saw Hermione's letter, you left it on the table. Is everything alright? Where are you? When will you be coming back? Send word back as soon as you can, Mum is freaking out.
Ron groaned loudly, yes his mother would kill him for leaving without word or warning. He grabbed a quill from the desk and scratched his response on the back of her letter.
Tell mom to keep her knickers on, I'm fine. Hermione just needs my help with something before we come back home. Don't want to say too much in the off chance it's intercepted. We'll return as soon as we're done. Might not be until late, don't wait up for me.
He felt silly, not telling them everything. There had never been a time where there had been taboo's on what he wrote home.
It was another hour and a half before she came into her room. It had been a long and anxious wait. He wished he'd brought his new book with him or something. He chucked at the thought that he'd spent all week studying a book and he wouldn't even be able to brag to Hermione about it. She opened the door and stood in the threshold, she looked calm but the hand holding her wand was shaking.
They said nothing, there was no need. He rushed over to her again and with only a moment of shy hesitation he wrapped his arms around her again. He pulled her into the room and closed the door behind him. He felt her convulsing sobs start up again and pulled her deeper into the room setting her down on the foot of her bed. Holding her as close to his heart as he could. He breathed her in deeply, her smell was intoxicating and he couldn't resist once again running his hands her hair, caressing her it gently and occasionally worked up the courage to press his lips to the top of her head that she had snuggled against his worn cotton shirt.
It was a long time before either of them dared to disturb their silence. Ron's mind sifted through dozens of questions but he remembered the advice 'Hug first ask questions later' and he kept silent. Holding her. She pulled back a little but left her hands resting on his chest. She bit down on her bottom lip and he found himself momentarily lost in watching her nibble on her lip, imagining how it would feel if she were to bite down on his bottom lip. A silent moan growled in his chest. What would it feel like to pull her supple lip into his own mouth and nibble softly on it. His chest purred again. He was brought back to the moment when his gaze registered the anguish in her eyes. He felt a little guilty about letting his mind wander.
"Thank you Ron, I couldn't have done it without you." her face contorted again but she composed herself quickly and she looked into his eyes, holding his gaze. Without looking away he pulled his hand up and wiped the tear silently escaping her eyes as she blinked, caressing her face with his thumb as he did so.
"I didn't do anything Hermione. I just sat here, doing nothing, just waiting for you." Ron voice sounded as helpless as he felt. He was surprised when she gave him a half smile as if enjoying a private joke.
"That's all I needed."