Of Scrolls and Sleeping

Chapter Three: A Lover's Wings to Fly On

Hermione had dreamed of flying before. Not the clumsy cautious way she flew while awake, but like Ron did when he thought no one was looking, with intuitive skill and easy abandon. She knew he was truly happy in those precious few times that she had seen him soaring and swooping above her. She had felt an intimate connection with him in those moments. Hermione wished he could see her like this! That he would see her and know, truly understand that she felt just as he did in that moment. She was gliding up toward consciousness in the now all but black Gryffindor common room when she felt a gentle pressure against her lips. She returned the mellow pressure, becoming aware of the arms tightening optimistically around her. She savored the kiss, her arms pulling him closer. She had never thought how sweet his lips would be. She felt his lips leave hers just as she sensed the light touch of his hand cradle her left cheek. Hermione's eyelids fluttered, like curtains blown open on a breeze, revealing his face before her. The tawny freckles splayed across the angles of his nose and his cheek bones, his flaming red hair, and those eyes ... those eyes that threatened to draw out her heart and hold it forever. All dimly illuminated by the now dying fire.

"Oh Ron," she whispered out his name in a gentle rush.

He looked at her with such holy reverence she could do nothing to stop the tear that escaped the corner of her right eye. He moved to kiss the tear away. Her eyes slipped closed again at his approach and she let out a sigh when his warm lips lighted briefly on her cheek where the tear had clung. She pulled him into a fierce embrace and he responded with equal fervor. Ron and Hermione clung to each other for an endless moment, surrendering to the emotions that were spreading through them. When their grip loosened it was to look at each other again. His hands slid down her arms to take her hands in his between them. Something dark flashed across his eyes and he looked down at their hands, as if to study the fine lines and knuckles of her palms and fingers.

"Hermione," Ron started slowly, almost apologetically. "I woke up and found my arms were around you, I wanted to move but..." His voice faltered slightly, but then he looked up into her eyes, resolved to finish.

"I didn't want to move, I just sat and watched your eyes darting under your eyelids, all I wanted to do was keep you there, feel your heart beating...to let you dream. But then I started kissing you...I, I'm sorry." he finished, with a twinge of guilt, but no regret.

Hermione raised her left hand to his face, her eyes full of love for him.

"Oh Ron," she sighed in faint exasperation, "do you want to know what I was dreaming?"

He nodded yes, her palm gently caressing his cheek where it still rested.

"I was dreaming that I was flying, not my usual cautious starts and stops, but smooth graceful gliding. And all I could think was, I wish Ron were here to share this with me."

Relief burst upon his features, and he smiled, reaching his hand to trace her hairline, stopping to smooth an unruly rich brown curl resting on her cheek. As he pushed it back among its siblings his hand slid under her ear, his fingers lacing through her hair to cradle the back of her head. Hermione leaned in to him. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to make something out very far off.

"I love you, you know," he added the last two words to give emphasis to those preceding it. Ron was more serious than she had ever seen him. Hermione could no longer hold in the tears that fell from her eyes.

"And I love you, Ron, with all my heart."

The kisses that followed were intense and tender, and far too few. They both wanted to stay there together all night, but reason and that morning's potions class convinced them both to get what sleep they could manage in their dormitories. The last thing they saw before disappearing up the separate staircases was each other's giddy grin.