(no subject)

[humourandheart]

Part of Ron wishes he had never wandered off after breakfast. Wanting to see the place for himself, he'd taken off, with little thought in mind of how he'd find his way back to Harry and Hermione.

The familiarity of the situation is not entirely lost on him and, for all he knows, they could be anywhere. (Mind, he doesn't think they'd leave without him, only that Milliways has more ground to cover than he had thought.)

Standing in the library, in hopes that Hermione had retreated to her books, he digs out the Deluminator from his pocket and clicks it, just the once. It doesn't do much other than steal the nearest light-source, which he puts right almost immediately.

"Where's a bleeding map when you need one?" he gripes, far louder than any normal library-goer might and turns to leave, ready to search another room.

Comments

[evercleverest]

"It is, yes," Hermione confirms, watching him for a moment, lost in the movement of his hands.

She puts the book down and folds her own behind her back.

"It took a bit of getting used to anyway, the size of this place, but I've had the time. Not because I chose to," she reminds him. "I'm not sure if anyone's told you yet about how ... sometimes the door doesn't open. That's what happened to me."

[humourandheart]

"You're saying it kept you here?"

There's a rough, almost angry edge to his tone and his knuckles turn white where he grips the book fast, if only for a moment.

"Why didn't you say something before? We're not trapped now, are we?"

[evercleverest]

"It's all right, Ron," she says quickly.

It's not as if talking about being Bound was ideal morning conversation anyway.

"I checked it just a little while ago, after you and Harry went off to explore the place a bit. It's still there and it still opens."

(Personally, she isn't quite sure whether that's a good or bad thing - but the choice is there. And, perhaps, that's the part that really matters.)

[humourandheart]

Ron, after a very long minute of thinking it over, nods.

"I don't like it," he says with a huff, "Besides it being a world of creepy, I think we've had enough of being imprisoned, don't you?"

He places the book back on the stack, none-too-lightly that the thud! of it echoes in the minute quietness. He can't quite look at Hermione.

"We have to tell Harry. If he doesn't already know."

[evercleverest]

Imprisoned.

She lets out a breath that comes out a little shakier than she would have liked.

"Yes. Well, of course we have," she says, the pragmatic tone in her voice weakened by the memory of another specific prison.


Then she nods too, in an attempt to regain her composure, even if Ron might not see it.

(And it is to her credit that the sound from the book doesn't make her jump. The library, while usually quiet, seems especially so now.)

"We'll tell him," she says. "He won't like the idea either, of course, but he ought to know about it too. But ... I have a feeling it won't happen again for a while."

[humourandheart]

There's a lump in his throat again, his thoughts along the same as hers, and he clears his throat to rid himself of it.

He wants to agree with her, to feel assured in her intuition of the place. And to assure her what happened won't happen again, that he wouldn't let it.

But he can't.


"Hermione - "

He glances her way. His fingers itch to grab her hand.

He suddenly doesn't know what to say.

[evercleverest]

"- yes?"

It's strange, she thinks, but something happened between the Manor and now. Something she isn't sure she fully understands yet, but when she looks at Ron, it's ... different.

He's a little different.


Her forearm suddenly begins to sting, and without quite realizing it, she's pulling up her sleeve. The welts on her skin - not as red and angry as they had been - are still there, carved into the flesh of her arm.

m u d b l o o d

She hastily pulls her sleeve back down.

[humourandheart]

The fingers that were itching to grab hers, slip around her wrist just as she finishes pulling down her sleeve. He tugs her near and, very carefully, rolls the fabric up again to reveal the wound.

(He has changed. As much as anyone might, after all they've been through and what's to come.)

"You're not what they think you are," he says, staring down at her arm, fingers still curled lightly around her wrist. "I know you know that, but - You're just not, alright? You're a better witch than any of them could ever imagine to be."

[evercleverest]

She lets out another breath, one that had been caught in her chest when he tugged her closer.

With the word mudblood permanently etched into her skin - staring up at her - and Ron's fingers around her wrist, firm yet gentle, she can feel her own fingers start to shake.

"I - I know that," she says softly, just lacking her usual defiance with all of the bottled-up fear lodged tightly in her throat. "I - of course I do. It's just -"

[humourandheart]

"Just what?" Ron asks, a hard edge to his tone. His grip leaves her wrist to wrap around her fingers.

[evercleverest]

She clutches his hand, the motion so familiar to her now, with everything that'd happen recently.

It also stops the trembling.

Reluctant, almost hesitant, she swallows.

It takes her a moment before she can speak.

"What she did to me, what ... she made me feel ..." Her voice is a murmur when she says, "I really thought I was going to die, Ron."

[humourandheart]

"That wasn't going to happen."

The hard edge in his tone is still there.

"We wouldn't - Harry and I, we wouldn't have let that happen."

(He'd thought it too, of course. How could he not? It was all he could think about, hearing her scream like that.

Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs,
Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists,
and Harry in utter desperation seized Hagrid's pouch from around his neck...)

"I'd have done anything to get you out of there. Both of us would have. And you're not dead," he says with some finality. "You're alive, and she's going to get what's coming to her, 'Mione."

[evercleverest]

Thinking it is one thing but saying the words aloud are another all together.

All of that fear and pain rush out of her, and she can feel her eyes fill with tears.

Hermione had never felt so completely vulnerable before in her entire life; she'd never feared a witch as much as she'd feared Bellatrix Lestrange at that moment.

But to admit it aloud is a relief.

While the urge to stay away and hide is there, there's a greater part of her that believes Ron (well, of course she does - she would never doubt that he and Harry would do everything they could for her, just as she would for them) and knows that there is absolutely no way she'd ever back down from the fight against Voldemort.

(And that is why she'd been sorted into Gryffindor.)

Ron's hand is warm around hers, and it's his warmth that gives her strength too.

She nods. When she blinks, her tears fall down her cheeks.

"I know," she says.

It could be an answer to everything he's said.

[humourandheart]

"You'll ruin your books if you do that," Ron says after a long moment and, with a hand free, he wipes the tears from her cheek.

(There's a tenderness to the touch and just something altogether Ron in it. He may have changed, but he is still him.)

"A flood of water damage, and all I've got is lint in my bloody pocket."

[evercleverest]

(And really, she would never want him to change completely anyway - the good and the bad bits, that's what makes him him.)


Her eyes crinkle a little and she starts to laugh.

"You're right," she says, the slight blush in her face unmistakable. "We really must think of the books."

She sniffles.

Already, she feels better.

"Especially since none of them really belong to me at all."

[humourandheart]

"You know me, always thinking of the books."

He gives her a weak smile.

"Suppose we could always spell-clean them and whistle our way out of here, no one the wiser. If it came to it."

(Rather, she could spell-clean. He'd probably only make the damage worse.)

[evercleverest]

She lets out another laugh, wiping the rest of the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her free arm.

"Or," she says, sniffling, "I could just stop - bloody crying."

Now that she's started, it's really difficult to stop. (And it's a little embarrassing, too.)

[humourandheart]

"That too," Ron says, between the release of a breath and a laugh. "Be an option worth considering, anyway."

He pauses only briefly before (awkwardly) adding, "Whenever you're ready."

[evercleverest]

She starts to nod, biting her bottom lip and glancing up towards the ceiling in order to keep the fresh wave of tears from falling.

"Right. I'm sorry - I just." She sniffles again. "I suppose I'm just ... so relieved that that bit's over."

A combination of her admitting it aloud, and having it hit her at that moment is the only logical explanation for this sudden flood of tears that had refused to come before now.

[humourandheart]

Ron, only awkward from not knowing the right things to say - Harry is probably better at this sort of thing - simply twists his grasps on her fingers to hold her hand more properly.

And says, "Really, Hermione. We sort of got all the time you need, haven't we? That's what you said anyway, never mind the deadline Harry's got us on. I'll let you know when the library starts to give me hives, but, y'know, you can keep doing that, if you need to."

[evercleverest]

She smiles, which only makes it far harder to hide the fact that she's still crying.

She wipes her tears and shakes her head.

"No. No, Harry's right. Time may pause while we're here, but ... we can't stay here longer than a few days. We really should find out what's happened back home, and Dobby -"

Well.

She isn't sure why the three of them made it through the Bar door, but the House-elf didn't.

"To do otherwise, it'd start to get to us all, I think. I mean, we'd start to feel the fear of what happened."

[humourandheart]

"Bit late for that," Ron breathes, his previously calmer tone breaking from a shaky laugh as he looks on while she tries to pull herself together again.

Fear has had a strong grip on him since Malfoy Manor, he doesn't think it can get any worse than how bad it already is.

But there is immense relief since as well.

He glances down at their joined hands.

"D'you think Dobby made it to Bill and Fleur's?"

[evercleverest]

"I think so," she says, before adding, "I hope so."

There isn't too much she can remember clearly from between the time Bellatrix carved into her arm and waking up in the Milliways Infirmary.

Everything else comes back to her in bits and pieces, through the haze of what really happened and what she saw in her nightmares.

[humourandheart]

She might not have a clue as to what happened to Dobby, yet Ron looks to her anyway. She has never not awakened his nerve in some way before.

"Yeah," he agrees in a mumble. At first incapable of being understood before adding, with clearer assumption, "We'll find him there."

[evercleverest]

What else will they find?

It's a question she doesn't exactly want to ask, in case the answer is something that'll scare away what courage she has left.

Maybe it's best to switch subjects for a little while.

"I don't suppose you've seen Harry about while you were off exploring?"

[humourandheart]

What feels like ages ago, he might have questioned her with a snippy and short 'what d'you want him for'. But that was then and this is now and his jealousy isn't quite what it was.

"...She cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see.
There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone..."

"No, I haven't," he says. "Don't tell me you're ready to leave already."

[evercleverest]

"No," she says, glancing down at their joined hands for a moment. "Not yet. But - I worry about you two. I'm allowed to, aren't I?"

Now that she's gotten over (physically, anyway) the events of Malfoy Manor, her mind can go to other things. And really, she'd much prefer to worry over her best friends than see those images again.

[humourandheart]

"Only every other hour. Can't have you harping on us all the time."

He isn't quite looking at her when he grins, the corner of his eyes wrinkled at the wideness of it.

He squeezes her hand, reflexively.

[evercleverest]

She's suddenly quite sure she wants to hug him or something right now.

It's the grin. It's something she always thought suited him best, but with very little to grin about these days, it's been rarer to see.

Instead, she tilts her chin up and rolls her eyes.

"I don't harp," she points out, half-amused. "I merely express my concern, that's all."

[humourandheart]

Ron glances at her with laughter written all over his face.

"Is that what you call it? Well, you've still got another twenty minutes or so before you can," he adds, like it's been decided and stamped with Ministry approval.

"What in the name of Merlin are you going to do until then?"

[evercleverest]

"Oh, I don't know," she says, shrugging.

Sure, she'll play along.

"There are a lot of books to put away."

[humourandheart]

"Indexing and sorting. Sounds like a brilliant use of time."

He looks over his shoulder at the stack of books needing to be put away, still grinning.

"D'you know I'd help? But I'd probably make it worse. Reckon you might just wait on that too."

Anything else hidden among the stacks?

[evercleverest]

Hermione shakes her head, letting out a laugh.

"Well, I've got to do something productive for - was it twenty minutes, did you say? Have you got the timer on that, Ron?"

[humourandheart]

"'Course I do," he says, puffing out his chest a little. "About nineteen minutes to go now. You're losing seconds for your something productive."

[evercleverest]

"Considering we're in a library," she says, "the most productive thing to do really would involve the books."

She gestures back at the stack.

"I can't exactly slack off on my librarian duties, after all, whether or not you help me."

[humourandheart]

"Can't you?"

Ron shakes his head and releases her hand to grab a book from the stack with a roll of his eyes.

"Always thinking," he says as he stands, moving the book from one hand to the other, pausing only to glance at the title for shelving.

"Suppose I can help you. But if I break out into boils from exposure you've only got yourself to blame, mind. You can worry about that in eighteen minutes."

[evercleverest]

"I'm sure I'll figure something out before then," she says primly, "before I even have to worry."

She smiles, gathering a couple of books from that stack.

"Though - really, Ron? Boils from books? You really shouldn't go on insulting them."

[humourandheart]

"They started it," he says, grinning around at her before disappearing behind a stack. A moment later -


"Bloody hell! See, I told you."

(Never mind it being his fault for knocking down a handful onto his foot while trying to put one away.)

[evercleverest]

By now, Hermione's sorted about half of the stack.

Possibly with a little help from her a certain levitation spell.

(What? She only has ... well, probably something like fifteen minutes left.)



At the sound of a series of heavy thuds and Ron's exclamation, Hermione can't help but laugh. She heads over to where he is, notes the mess, and lets out an exaggerated sigh of exasperation.

"You're hopeless, Ron." (But she says this with affection.) With a flick of her wrist, she has the books rising from the floor, and around his feet, back to where they belong.

"Time?" she prompts.

[humourandheart]

"Well past up," he grumbles, flexing his foot within the boot.

That hurt.

"C'mon, I think we've done enough shelving for a week. Show me what else I'm missing in this place?"

Maybe they'll find Harry along the way, but he certainly doesn't mind spending the time alone with her.

[evercleverest]

She smiles.

"All right," she agrees. "We've practically got the place sparkling clean anyway."

That's not entirely true, but she really doesn't need the books for distraction anymore. Clearly.

"Come on, then." She holds out her hand for his. "I don't suppose you want to go outside for a bit? 'Clear the dust out of your lungs'?"

[humourandheart]

"Bit stuffy, isn't it? I do feel a cough coming up..."

He takes the offered hand, faking a cough into his shoulder as he lets Hermione lead the way.

Suppose he did find his map, after all.