A Secret Goodnight

It was late. Far too late. Hermione Granger nuzzled into her bushy hair, feeling consciousness creep back in. She had fallen asleep in the drawing room, she realized. Hermione and Ron had cloistered themselves there after all the chores had been fulfilled, and resorted to talking about Harry, the war, and necessity of Quidditch within the structure of organized society (which had really been more of a debate).

Once those topics had been exhausted, the chess board emerged. Hermione hated playing chess, but every game she lost increased her determination to at least play a more impressive game. (She had given up hoping to actually win.)

And that's where they had left off. Hermione must have drifted away to sleep during a particularly long period of watching Ron sit and strategize.

Hermione was still too tired to even open her eyes, and did not object when she felt herself sinking back into sleep. Judging by the darkness now pressing her eyelids, Hermione could tell the fire had gone out; and considering it had been roaring during her last conscious recollection of the night, she wagered she had been asleep for a couple hours. So Ron will have gone off to bed ages ago, she thought, almost disappointed. She rarely ever got to spend time with just Ron, and Harry would be arriving at Grimmauld place any day now. She was beyond thrilled that Harry would finally be joining them, especially after what had happened at the end of school, not to mention the recent the dementor attack, but she had grown accustomed to having Ron all to herself. Once Harry got there- if he was in any mood for it, which Hermione was beginning to doubt- he and Ron would go off and have the boys club again....

Hermione urged herself to stop thinking about bitter thoughts, or about Ron, because it was producing a sudden surge of adrenaline that was tearing her away from the grips of sleep.

Now restless, Hermione creaked one eye open. Other than the lack of fire in the fireplace, the room looked as if no time had passed since Hermione had last been awake. Even the chess pieces were in the exact spot they had been in during Ron's sleep-inducing strategization, and he still hadn't made his move!

She opened the second eye and raised her head up off the arm of the couch. As she did, she was shocked to find Ron snoozing to her right, his head rested angularly against the couch's other arm.

Hermione felt a flutter. Why hadn't he gone off to bed? Had he waited for her to wake up and finish the match? She thought this somewhat guiltily. It was no real concern of hers, however, as she had stumbled upon a rare opportunity.

She waited, gazing at his sleeping features almost dolefully, and wishing for the impossible. It was such a rare opportunity, she kept reminding herself. He would never know. But while that may have been the case, Hermione knew that placing her hand on his chest- which was all she really wanted to do- would only intensify that unsatiated void.

However, thought every cell in her being, it would satisfy the void for a minute or two....

She raised her hand tentatively, feeling the blood drain out of it. Midway between accomplishing the task, however, Hermione was struck with a better idea.

She needed to be covert and silent about the whole thing. Praying she could pull off the guise, Hermione slid gently to the center of the couch. Ron's legs were on the floor, making the plan easier. His arms were even spread out, too. It was like he was daring her to do it.

Well, she thought, here goes everything. Slowly, she allowed herself to fall. Not too slowly, mind you, because if it was too slow it would feel like an intentional act. She wanted it too look as if she had just happened to fall into him during her sleep, should he wake up as she landed on him.

Ron, however, did not wake up as she sloped her body gracefully into his chest. Heaven, Hermione thought as she listened to his heartbeat against her ear. Her neck tingled as his breath grazed her left cheek. She placed her free hand delicately onto his chest beside her and sighed internally. This is the closest I may ever get, she thought, almost defeatedly. She realized instantly that she had been wrong. Being this close to Ron was not satisfying the hole she carried around with her, it was only digging it deeper. It was torture, but it was paradise at the same time. The ambiguous thrill-ride made Hermione never want to leave.

She remained in that position for what felt centuries, but was truthfully only a few hours. As soon as she saw the slightest hint of light creep through the drapes, Hermione resolved, regretfully, that she had to leave heaven before Ron woke up.

Just as she was gathering the willpower to rip herself away, she heard the sound of activity coming from somewhere in the hall. Hermione let out an accidental gasp and pulled herself haphazardly from Ron's unwilling embrace. As she bolted quietly out of the room, she saw to her relief that Ron had not stirred.

* * * * *

As Ron sat on the couch next to Hermione, planning his next move, he glanced up for a moment and discovered that Hermione had drifted off.

Just when we were in the middle of an exciting game! How do you stay awake through a history lecture and not this?!

But as he watched her sleep, his mind jumped instantly to the opportunity that lay before him and he quickly scolded himself for it. Watching Hermione sleep like some lecherous pervert was not an idea Ron wanted to play host to.

...So maybe he would just sit and wait for her to wake up, you know, so they could finish the game. And if he happened to occasionally glance at her, well, that was expected if your looking for signs of someone waking up.

So there he sat, simply watching her hair flutter as she breathed, when he started to get tired himself. He lay back against the arm of the couch and closed his eyes. It was getting harder for him to explain why he did things like this- but the more he thought he had identified the heart of every feeling, the more confused he became. Better to stop thinking about it, he thought. I will stop thinking about it now... er... now... now... Oh, come on, I don't even know what I'm thinking about. What's 'it'?

When Hermione was awake, when she was animated, he could stifle 'it' to a dull, unnoticeable ache, located right near the center of his chest (Perhaps her annoying bossiness kept it more easily at bay.) But when she was asleep, or more truthfully, when he was alone with his thoughts, it became more difficult to hide from the pounding void. Every day it was like that painful, surreptitious piece of himself would grow a scab, and every night the wound would be re-exposed.

No, no, no! Stop thinking about 'it'! Stupid 'it'...

Just then, Ron heard Hermione stir on the other side of the couch. He didn't dare open his eyes. She must not have woken up, though, he thought, because she isn't getting up to leave. Instead, he felt her slowly turn over in her sleep, and to his breathless amazement, felt her accidentally slide from where she lay and land on his chest. Holy hell! Ron thought frantically. She's. Curling up. On. Me!

Ron remained entirely still, just breathing in the smell of her hair and feeling her elbow against his arm- he didn't dare move that arm. He didn't want to make a single erratic movement for fear that she would wake.

But she didn't wake. She remained against Ron's chest for several bliss-filled hours. Ron could not remember feeling so happy, and he knew that once she woke up and realized where she had fallen, he would not be able to remember ever feeling so sad, either.

Much to Ron's utter misery, that moment did eventually rear it unwanted head. Ron felt and heard Hermione raise her head, gasp, and then urgently scramble off of him. As depressed as he was at this moment, he had enough sense to remain dormant. if she saw him move now, she would suspect that he had been fully aware of her presence, and maybe even think that he had pulled her into that position. No, he thought sadly, wouldn't want that.

As he heard her footsteps trail away from the room, he said quietly, "That was the closest I may ever get."