Nightswimming

Nightswimming

 

            The late August evening was unseasonably warm for the Burrow. Ron Weasley was eagerly awaiting his best friend, Harry Potter, to join him downstairs for a swim in the nearby pond. They had just finished a rough game of Quidditch in the paddock behind the pond and wanted to cool off.

            Harry joined his friend at the foot of the stairs. “I’m ready!” he announced.

            “‘Bout bloody time Harry. Now come on, it’s sweltering in here!” Ron griped. “And the girls are probably wondering where we are anyway.”

            Ron’s other best friend, Hermione Granger, along with his little sister Ginny, had gone to the pond earlier in the day to enjoy some of the summer sun instead of watching the boys play the wizarding sport.

            Ron and Harry started out the back door and followed the path through the gardens behind the house. As they reached the end of the gardens, Ron’s mother called after them from a nearby bed of flowers she was tending. “Now Ron dear, don’t forget that you need to degnome the gardens again,” she reminded him. “You said that you would do it this week.”

            Ron son rolled his eyes at Harry, who smiled in his direction, and turned back to his mother. “All right Mum, before supper, okay.”

            He detested degnoming the gardens. It always made him slightly sick after all the spinning. Luckily, he had Harry to help him with this tedious chore.

            The boys trudged along the narrow path leading to the pond, which was surrounded by tall shrubs, concealing it from the rest of the world. As they neared it, something caught Ron’s eye as he passed by a thinner part of the bushes. It was Hermione lying on one of Ron’s old and faded orange Chudley Cannons blankets as she read a book. She was wearing a scoop-necked tank top and a pair of Ginny’s old cutoff shorts, donning a light tan as she soaked up the sun. Her bushy brown mane had been pulled back into a loose ponytail, allowing the sun to spread gently over her neck and freckled shoulders.

            Ron wasn’t sure what came over him as he watched her though the brush, staring intently at her crossed legs, as they bobbed back and forth behind her. He continued to stare, frowning as she unconsciously reached behind her back. She pulled down the hem of her shorts, that had given him the ever so slightest glance at her wonderfully shaped . . .

            “Ron, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

            “What?”

            Ron watched Harry walk back over to him to see what had suddenly caused him to shove his head in the bushes. He pushed Ron aside and peered inside himself, wondering what all the fuss was about. Finally, Harry pulled his head out of the bush to look at Ron, who was feeling confused, and he began to chuckle.

            “What?” Ron said innocently, feeling his ears get hot.

            His friend grinned at him. “Bout time you finally see her as a girl,” he chided.

            Ron was speechless. It wasn’t the first time he had looked at her this summer, he’d just never been caught. Now his best friend caught him staring at her like an ordinary Peeping Tom It was worse than all the times he had made a fool of himself in order to impress Fleur Delacour, and she was half-Veela. This was Hermione. He tried to play it off best he could.

            “I don’t know what you’re on about,” he said, starting back down the path. “I just noticed an interesting looking beetle in the bush. You have a dirty mind Harry Potter.”

            “Yeah, right.”

            No sooner had Harry and Ron reached the entrance to the pond, but Harry began to eat his own words. As soon as Ginny spotted them, she came racing out of the water in a skimpy bikini. ‘Too skimpy,’ Ron thought.

            The young redheaded girl pranced up on to the bank shouting, “Hey guys! Glad you could finally join us! Come on in! The water feels great!”

            Harry simply looked at her awestruck. As though he had never seen her before in his life. Ron gave his google-eyed friend a warning look. “Now watch it mate, that’s my baby sister you happen to be admiring there.”

            As if he realized what he was doing, Harry quickly shook it off. “Sorry Ron, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

            “Well I do, and I didn’t like it.”

            “Point taken,” Harry said, grinning sheepishly. At that, he stripped his shirt and shoes off and dived into the water shouting, “I’m coming Ginny!”

            “Traitor,” Ron said to himself, gritting his teeth.

            He turned his gaze back to Hermione, who was now laying directly in front of him. He could see that her brow was furrowed as it always was when engrossed in a book, and the cut of her tank top exposed more of her charms than she seemed to realize.

            Hermione put her book down and looked up at Ron, who now had a goofy look playing across his face. “What’s up with you?” she asked, before she realized what he was looking at and sat up. To Ron, she seemed to keep her composure, despite the growing blush luckily concealed by the flush from the heat. Hermione nodded at the basket Ron had in his hands.

            “What’s that?”

            Ron snapped out of his trance and sat beside her. “Oh, er, I brought you two some sandwiches and fruit to snack on. Mum said you hadn’t come back to the house for lunch yet.

            “Wonderful! I’m starving!” she said excitedly, and a ravenous look spread across her face.

            He handed her an apple, giving her a goofy smile again. Things had changed between them since last year. Ginny teased Ron privately that it was because of the Yule Ball, but it was more than that. The events that occurred at the Yule Ball was only the tip of the iceberg. They acted differently towards each other, more so than they used to. Having gone back to the polite niceties that they had shown each other in first year, it was a rare occasion now when she showed him a more relaxed and more comfortable side of herself. He missed that sometimes.

            Hermione had become more self conscious as well. Not so much that she deliberately changed her looks, but rather the way she carried herself, especially around him. She seemed less like one of the guys, but feminine like Ginny–only not like a sister. And having become aware of her maturing body had proved troublesome, in more ways than one. Because of this, he often felt an overwhelming desire to protect her, as though she were a delicate flower, who’s petals were about to drop if handled too roughly.

            “Thanks,” she said, biting into the apple. She giggled slightly, wiping the juice was dripping from her chin.

            He was so ecstatic that she had decided to join the rest of the gang at the Burrow instead of visiting Krum for the summer. It wasn’t because he disliked Krum. He turned out to be an alright bloke after all. But he had always questioned Krums’ intentions with Hermione, regardless of their ‘friendship’. In spite of the endless bickering and constant nagging, he enjoyed that she was every bit as opinionated as he was, even when they disagreed. He respected her enormously for that, and the thought of losing her to Krum was unbearable to him. She was their Hermione.

            His Hermione.

            It struck him then, like a disarming spell against a fierce opponent. He liked her. Liked her much more than one should like their best girl friend. It was the most confusing confliction of emotions he had ever felt. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about her; she was one of his best friends. They had gone through so much together as friends, and yet he could not help but feel this all-consuming attraction for her. She made him feel like a whole person.

            Ron tried to shut the feelings out of his mind for the moment, picking up her book in hopes to create some small talk.

            “How many times have you read this thing? It’s practically worn out,” Ron asked, flipping through her book.

            Hermione gave him a playful glare as she snatched Hogwarts: A History out of his overgrown hands. “I know. But every time I read it, I always find something I haven’t noticed before,” she answered thoughtfully. “I suppose its time I get another copy huh?”

            “Nah,” Ron interjected, looking into the softness of her brown eyes. “My favorite books are the most worn too. The pages are familiar and comfortable, inviting you to read them again and again. It’s these books that allow you to see the things in them that you couldn’t see before. That’s what makes them so special. New books can’t do that.”

            She smiled with reddened cheeks. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, looking away from Ron’s steady gaze. She finally turned her head and saw Harry and Ginny out in the water, taking turns splashing and dunking each other.

            “What’s got into Harry, I wonder?” Hermione asked, though it was somewhat obvious what he was doing.

            Ron decided to answer the question anyway. “It looks like Harry has finally noticed my sister was a girl,” he sighed. Then he noticed that Harry picked Ginny up on his shoulders and huffed out quickly, narrowing his eyes, “He’d better watch it though.”

            Hermione laughed. “If I were you, I’d be more worried for Harry than Ginny. You know how she has felt about him all these years.”

            “You’re probably right,” Ron said softly, leaning towards her now, unable to turn away from the gentle slope of her neck and back. “Weasley hormones tend to run more rampant than others.”

            He wanted desperately to feel the dampness of her skin, moistened by the heat of the sun, if only for a moment. Without thinking, he reached out to her, but Hermione turned to him, causing him to retract his hand quickly in reflex.

            “Don’t you mean, everyone but you?” she chided. “You must be the only fifteen-year-old boy in Brittan that doesn’t even look at girls unless they are part Veela.”

            “Now that was below the belt. Not to mention that this comes from a girl who get crushes on every older man she comes across,” he thought. “I think this conversation has taken a sudden personal turn.”

            He wondered for a split-second if she perhaps felt the same about him.

            “That’s not true, I like girls,” Ron protested.

            “Name one.”

            “I’m not going to tell you that!”

            “Why not?” Hermione asked, looking slightly hurt. “I’m one of your best friends aren’t I?”

            His ears were suddenly feeling the heat of the sun when a look of disgust came over her face.

            “It’s not Lavender or Parvati is it? I know the other boys find them pretty. Especially Parvati.”

            Ron decided to take control of the conversation, and put her at ease. “No, of course not. I’m not that shallow.”

            Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

            “I happen to like girls with brains as well as personality,” he assured her matter-of-factly. “Those are qualities that neither one of them possess.”

            He watched her blush slightly at his words, her eyes darting away and picking up her book once more.

            Feeling he had successfully put her in her place, he laid back on the blanket beside her, as she continued her book, and smiled to himself inwardly as he took a nap.

 

            *          *          *

 

 

            Ron was restless that night, unable to stop thinking of his epiphany he had this afternoon about his true feelings for Hermione. Now that he knew how he felt about her, he began to ponder her feelings for him. She was never an aggressive or flirtatious person, but lately he always seemed to make her flustered. And she seemed to be blushing whenever he was being forward. Was it a sign of interest? He couldn’t tell.

            He looked over to Harry, who was snoring lightly in cot nearby. Ron rolled his eyes to himself at his friend, who only hours earlier, had been playing footsies with his little sister beneath the table during supper. How was it that those things always seemed to come so easily to Harry. He never even had a problem asking Parvati Patil to the Yule Ball, and although he was turned down, he had even asked a fifth year. And now, he didn’t even have to try, and he already had who he wanted–his sister. There was definitely going to be a conversation about that in the morning. But for the moment, it was too confusing to think about.

            Realizing that sleep was a lost cause at this point, Ron decided to grab a snack from the kitchen and take a walk outside. The warmth of the day had continued into the evening as he ventured towards the Quidditch paddock. He grabbed tall strands of grass or weeds and picked them apart in his hands as he walked, trying to sort out his feelings in the bright moonlight.

            “How would one go about telling their best friend that you feel that way about them anyway?” he wondered. “Hi Hermione. Tell me, what’s the best potion for removing boils? And by the way, I like you. Want to go out on a date?”

            He strolled on, trying desperately to think of a way to talk to her about it, as it seemed an impossible task. Walking near the pond on his way back to the Burrow, Ron heard an unusually loud splashing coming from the water. At first, he thought it was only ducks swimming, but it sounded larger than that, and he crept to opening in the bushes to see what was making the noise. He nearly fell over into the bushes when he saw it was Hermione, by herself, swimming in the pond.

            Instinctively, he jumped back behind the bush again to watch her, hoping she hadn’t seen him. Lit by the moonlight above the trees, she glided back and forth across the water, her bushy hair smoothed to soft waves from the heaviness of the water. She gracefully dived down a moment, and came back up several times. It was an absolutely lovely sight.

            But Ron was not able to gaze upon her in secret for long. One of the stray garden gnomes who had lost it’s way back to the Weasley flower beds, recognized Ron as one of the gnome banishers. It ran up and bit him on the ankle.

            “OW! Bloody hell!”

            Hermione stopped dead in the water. “Who’s there?” she asked into the darkness, craning her neck to see what, or rather, who it was.

            A small screech was heard along with a small ‘thud’, and suddenly a terribly embarrassed Ron stumbled from behind the hedge. “Er, hi there.”

            “What are you doing here?” Hermione said, hands on her hips as she stood up in the water, which came up to her midriff. She was wearing nothing but her underclothes.

            “I–I couldn’t sleep,” said Ron, trying to tear his eyes away from her exposed body, looking now to the pile of clothes she had left on his old Chudley Cannons blanket she had used there that afternoon.

            She followed his gaze, and with a squeal, she covered her cleavage, which had spilled over her low-cut bra, and quickly sank back down until the water barely covered her shoulders.

            “I’m sorry,” Ron managed to sputter. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I suppose you couldn’t sleep either?”

            Hermione blushed. “Yes. I thought a swim would be relaxing and perhaps tire me out. It’s something I do at home from time to time, when something weighs on my mind.”

            There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Ron was shuffling his feet in the grass, entertaining the thought of joining his half-naked friend , while Hermione crouched in the water.

            Suddenly, as though she was reading his mind, Hermione spoke up, breaking the silence. “Would you like to join me in a swim? It’ll help you to sleep too.”

            “Sure. If you don’t mind, of course,” he answered cheerfully, surprised by her daring. “I mean, you’re in your knickers and all.”

            “It’s okay,” she responded bravely. “It’s not any worse than a bathing suit. And it’s too dark for you to see anything anyway.”

            “Besides,” she smiled, nodding to him. “I’ve already seen you in yours’. It’s only fair.”

            Ron looked down. He was wearing an extremely worn-looking Cannons t-shirt and his own pair of boxer shorts. He stripped down to only the shorts and entered the water. He was careful at first not to swim too close to her, afraid that he might be invading her space somehow. But Hermione seemed quite comfortable in the warm water with him, despite the fact that they were both in their knickers.

            “Hermione, what are you worried about?” Ron asked her as she came back up from another dive.

            “What?” she asked, wiping the water from her eyes.

            He treaded closer. “You mentioned that something was weighing on your mind, I just wondered what it was.”

            “Oh,” she said, taken off guard by the question. “Well, loads of things really. But I’m sure it’s nothing you would want to hear about.”

            “Hermione, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know. You can tell me.”

            “Are you sure?”

            Ron gave her a serious look. “Go on. I can take it,”

            “All right,” she said reluctantly. “First of all, I’m worried about Harry. He hasn’t been the same since Cedric Diggory died. The events of last year really jarred him. And now that, er–“ she paused a moment, trying to say the words.

            “You-know-who,” Ron finished for her.

            Hermione sighed a thanks and went on. “Yes. Now that he’s back, it’s going to be harder on us all, especially Harry. Everyone expects so much of him, like he’s destined for all of this. But he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t see how he could ever possibly make a difference.”

            A look of dread came over her. Ron had never seen her look more vulnerable. He tried to reassure her. “I know that Harry has been in a rut since the Tri-wizard Tournament, but he’s strong, and he always carries on. Look at him today for instance. I haven’t seen him that animated in weeks.”

            Hermione laughed. “That’s just hormones. We all know how Ginny feels about him. I just hope he’s not falling into this for the wrong reasons.”

            “In know,” he said flatly. “And why he suddenly decided to unleash these hormones on my little sister is beyond me. But don’t worry, I plan on having a talk with him first thing in the morning. Is that all?”

            “No, that’s only the beginning,” she said. “I’m concerned about You-know-who’s return as well. Things are going to get worse before they get better. Who knows what’s going to happen to all of us when this is over. And what of my parents?” Hermione asked, looking him in eye.

            “Why are you worried for them?”

            “I’m Muggle-born Ron. You don’t think that there will be repercussions of that?”

            “I suppose you’re right, but I’m sure that for now they’re perfectly safe,” he assured her.

            “For now, but they won’t always be,” Hermione said with a heavy sigh.

            Ron could see the concern on her face, and her wanted very much to hold her then, ease the pain he saw in her eyes then, but he refrained. He simply swam nearer to her, helping her to understand that she was not alone. He spoke softly, “That’s a worry for all of us Hermione, but as long as we have each other–you, me and Harry. We hold on to that, and we’ll be okay.”

            Hermione cracked a smile, but he could still see the worry in her eyes. He crept closer still, the water rippling slightly as he glided towards her.

            “And then there’s school,” she began again abruptly. “It’s our fifth year. We’ll be taking our O.W.L.S. this year and I want to do well.”

            Ron couldn’t help but laugh at this, as he floated on to his back away from her. “You? Worried about the O.W.L.S.? Now that’s a laugh. Of all the students at Hogwarts, you should be the least worried about doing well on the O.W.L.S.”

            Hermione then did something that surprised Ron. She swam over him, dunking his head playfully, brushing her belly slightly against his as she did.

            When she came back up however, he was ready for her. Splashing her with huge strokes from his arms. She shrieked and laughed, raising her arms up for protection saying, “All right! I give, I give!”

            “That’s more like it,” he said triumphantly, watching her smooth her hair back behind her. She looked astonishing, framed by the moonlight and reflections of it in the water. “Like an angel,” he thought. It was now or never.

            “Hermione, can I ask you a question?”

            “Sure.”

            “What made you decide to come to the Burrow instead of visiting Krum?”

            Hermione was taken aback for a moment again by the sudden question, and the sincerity of his voice as he asked it. “Several reasons really,” she began nervously, trying not to look into his face, which was anxiously awaiting an answer. “First of all, I know that Harry asked us not to go about changing our lives in order to worry or protect him. But I didn’t feel that right now was the best time to be away.”

            “You’re right there,” Ron added, moving closer to her again. “We’re his support system. He doesn’t realize it, but he needs our strength, now more than ever.”

            She looked at him nervously, and nodded in agreement before she went on. “Besides, I don’t think it would have worked out between Victor and me anyway.”

            Ron gave her a sly grin as he crept closer now, closing the seemingly endless distance between them. “Really? Why do you say that?”

            Hermione’s lips began to tremble, as he invaded her personal space, but she didn’t recoil as he half-expected her to. “Well, we really didn’t have much in common. Honestly, he’s not really my type,” she said softly, unafraid now of his intense stare.

            “And what’s your type?” he said slowly, lowering his voice as he focused on her full, quivering lips.

            “Er, my type?” she nearly whispered, their faces now only inches apart. She looked flustered, confused . . . embarrassed. He wasn’t sure which really, it was only more endearing.

            “You know, red hair . . .freckles . . . blue eyes,” he teased slowly, cupping her shoulders as he leaned in closer.

            Her brow furrowed slightly, but her voice remained soft, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Ron Weasely. Where on earth did you get the idea that I–“

            She was cut short by the hard kiss Ron placed firmly on her lips. He expected her to pull away, but to his surprise, she didn’t resist. His arms caressed the backs of her shoulders, sliding them up to the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss. It was long and slow, penetrating every fiber of his being, completing him.

            They ended their kiss, and he began to pull away. He was the one trembling now. Hermione’s sparking eyes fluttered open with surprise, but she remained silent. The friends looked at each other in the moonlight, completely disoriented, not quite sure of what to say to one another.

            Finally, it was Ron who spoke, determined to get a real reaction from her. “Hermione, say something, please,” he pleaded. “I’ve never known you to not say anything at all.”

            She looked at him blankly for a moment, staring beyond him somehow. Her eyes then darted around as she spoke to herself, saying, “Er, right then. Yeah,” as though she were contemplating an important decision. Her deep brown eyes finally rested on Ron again, and suddenly a curious grin played across her face. And before Ron had time to figure out what she had been thinking about, she pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely.

            In response, his own arms wrapped around her again, pulling her upwards, slightly lifting her out of the water as they continued to kiss passionately. They both sank down again to their chins and broke apart, and as they did, all Ron could say was, “Whoa, now that’s saying something!” making her laugh.

            “I suppose you’re my type after all,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

            “I–I suppose so,” he finished, still dumbfounded.

            “Perhaps we should be getting back to the house now,” Hermione offered. “It’s late.”

            Ron nodded. “Yeah, I suppose we should.”

            He waited in the water, his back turned to her, as she got dressed, before he came out himself. They sat on the blanket drying off, Hermione brushing through her hair, which was now returning to its original bushiness as it dried.

            “I suppose this changes things for us,” Hermione said thoughtfully, looking up at the sky as she combed through her hair.

            “Is that a bad thing?” Ron asked.

            She turned to him, looking into his wistful eyes, “No. I think it’s been a long time coming, honestly.”

            “I know,” he said, taking her chin in his hand and kissing her sweetly on the lips again.

            “Should we tell Harry?” asked Hermione when they parted again.

            “I suspect he already knows. But, lets just take our time with this and see what happens, okay?” he said. “Besides, he doesn’t have to know that his best friends were snogging in the pond tonight.”

            “Good point,” Hermione nodded, agreeing with him.

            “But one thing’s for sure,” Ron added.

            “What’s that?”

            “It’s going to be one hell of a year for us.”