Incendium

INCENDIUM: Cookie: Picking up the Pieces

Ron's stomach growled loudly, protesting its emptiness in indistinct gurgles and squelches. It was so loud, in fact, that it awoke Ron and disturbed Neville's sleep - Neville being the lightest sleeper in the room. Ron opened his eyes blearily as his stomach continued to contract and expand, making disgusting noises in the silence. He sat up slowly, clutching his aching stomach, and groaned loudly. Neville rustled again but still didn't wake. Ron blinked once or twice and shook his head, trying to wake himself up. Once he was suitably coherent, he furrowed his brow and discerned quickly that he was hungry. He hadn't really eaten at dinner that night, mostly because Hermione was making him anxious, giving him significant looks whenever Harry looked in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, so he was inordinately hungry. Unfortunately, it was two o'clock in the morning, and he had exhausted his Honeydukes stash earlier in the month. This called for a trip to the kitchens.

Ron pulled the covers off his legs and rolled himself out of bed. He still had Harry's Invisibility Cloak hidden in his trunk, so he opened the creaky trunk slowly and pulled out the silvery cloth. It slid between his fingers and a tiny surge of jealousy rushed through him. If only he had an Invisibility Cloak...

He shrugged to himself and slung the cloak over his head. He traced the quickest route to the kitchens over in his mind as he exited the boys' dormitory and entered the common room. A quiet, strangled sound came from the couch, and Ron stopped in his tracks. Soon, he recognised the sound as the soft, quiet sobs of a distressed girl. He didn't really want to know who it was crying, but he had a good hunch. He sat down on the bottom of the stairs and listened, holding his breath lest he be heard.

The girl's breathing hitched and she sniffled quietly to herself. "I just wish -" she cut herself off with a sharp breath in. Ron instantly recognised the voice, and wondered to himself whether he should be listening.

"I just wish it had never happened," Hermione blurted into the silence. Her frame was wracked with sobs, but she didn't care. She needed to air her thoughts, and the best place for that was the empty common room at two o'clock in the morning. She had been lying in bed prior to that, musing over the past year, and had come to the conclusion that she had never wanted Harry. It seemed odd to her at first, because she thought she had been crying over losing Harry, but she eventually realised that it made sense.

When she had first heard Lavender declare that Harry had kissed Martine Bell, her first thought had been, 'oh, how wonderful that Harry has finally found someone.´ Hermione thought his actions had been strange, but she was at least happy for him. She was even eager to find out the truth behind Lavender's proclamation, because she thought it meant that Harry might finally be letting go of his long-time crush on Cho Chang. In fact, Harry had never wanted to think about, let alone see, Cho Chang ever again after what happened at the end of their fourth year, but both Hermione and Ron had always assumed that he was just repressing his feelings for her.

Hermione had begun to wonder if she was repressing feelings herself when she got inordinately angry with Harry for his treatment of Martine. It was an irrational thing to be angry with him about, and Hermione prided herself on being the most rational person she knew. When she had come into the boys' dormitory Sunday evening, she had finally broken her logic down and practically admitted to Ron that she was still upset about Harry's reaction to their kiss. That had only complicated things.

She had thought about it over the past two nights, and in doing so, she realised that what really upset her was that Harry was with someone, and she wasn't. She was severely lacking in the romance department, and she regretted it despite her outward aversion to any romantic tendencies. Her more practical side had always told her that she shouldn't get involved with anyone because it would disrupt her schoolwork; on the other hand, she knew there was more to life than just schoolwork. What was really upsetting her was that she felt like she was missing out on something important. At 17, she felt hopelessly unloved, and wanted to find someone like Harry had found Martine.

Hermione sniffled again, rubbing her nose on her plain white handkerchief. "This all could have been helped if I hadn't -" her voice hitched, "if I hadn't been such an idiot." Ron shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He didn't really enjoy spying on Hermione, even if she would never know he was there. It seemed to be a very private moment, and Ron felt uneasy listening in on it.

Hermione made a frustrated growling sound and slapped herself noisily on the forehead. "Sometimes I could just die." Without any hesitation, Ron stood abruptly and threw the Invisibility Cloak off, walking to Hermione.

"Don't you dare say that," he said fiercely, appearing in front of Hermione without warning. She jumped in surprise and instantly stopped crying. Ron started, suddenly realising that he had never seen Hermione crying before. Her face was blotchy, and the fresh tears still shimmered on her skin. Her shoulders shrugged a little as she hiccupped involuntarily. Her surprise wearing off, she slowly furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What?"

Ron paused, still rather startled by Hermione's appearance, and shifted awkwardly. "Um," he stalled. He had left too much time between statements, and remembered that he was not equipped to handle crying girls. "You shouldn't say you want to die."

Hermione's face relaxed a little. "Oh," she said quietly, looking at her hands. "I wasn't saying that. I just meant... it was... I didn't mean it." Ron frowned. Great, now I've made a complete idiot of myself by assuming she wanted to kill herself. He sat down next to her, throwing the Invisibility Cloak on the coffee table in front of them, making random parts of it disappear, and heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry for listening," he said after a moment.

Hermione hiccupped. "It's okay. I just realised some things and needed... a few moments to myself."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just think you should know that I don't like Harry or anything," she blurted before thinking.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I just... before... well..." Hermione sighed; she was no good at excuses. "I thought I still had feelings for him, but I don't."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I..." she paused, thinking before she spoke. She looked over at Ron hesitantly. His tone had been offhanded, but the serious gaze that now held hers contradicted that completely. His blue eyes encouraged her to speak, and seemed to comfort her with their softness. She took a deep breath, which inevitably hitched in her throat, and began speaking in a soft voice. "I realised that I'm jealous of Harry, of what he has with Martine. I want someone like that, too."

Ron's mind raced. What am I supposed to say to that?! "There's someone out there for you, Hermione, I know it." Hermione's eyebrows sagged, painting a relieved, thankful look on her face. He smiled slightly in return.

"You really think that?"

"I knowit." Oh Merlin, he thought dazedly the instant the words had left his mouth, I'm talking about me.

Hermione held his gaze. Merlin, she thought, he means himself. This sudden and quite unexpected revelation startled both of them, but neither of them looked away. Ron stared hopefully into Hermione's eyes, which looked to him like deep, brown vortexes, allowing him no insight to her emotions. She, in turn, was frozen in shock. Was this what she wanted - who she wanted? Ron looked ready to give up, but she didn't want him to leave.

"Kiss me," she blurted desperately. Ron was taken aback slightly by her tone of voice, but he obeyed her whim nonetheless. He shuffled closer to her and began to lean in, when Hermione made a small, squeaking sound. He stopped, his face mere inches from hers, and looked at her inquisitively.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. His breath brushed along her lips, and she nodded without thinking, her face reddening quickly. "Alright, then," he said, nodding slightly. He moved closer, closed his eyes tightly, and soon found his lips touching hers. She jolted a little at the touch, but was soon relaxing despite her nerves.

Apart from Harry, Hermione had only ever kissed Viktor Krum; and that had been a quick, chaste kiss. Ron, on the other hand, was completely new to kissing. He had been ashamed of it because of his brothers' constant teasing, but luckily nobody at Hogwarts ever asked after his sexual prowess.

Hermione soon lost herself in the kiss and reached for Ron's face, pulling him closer. She knew she had found what she had been missing. Her kiss with Harry - which had lasted all of three seconds - simply paled in comparison to this. Even though she and Ron often bickered, she knew that this was all she had ever wanted. She pulled him closer still, desperate to cling to what she had found, but Ron took her hand gently and pulled away from her.

He looked at her, breathless, as an endearing flush shaded her cheeks, and a lopsided grin fell onto his face. True, he didn't think of himself as much of a connoisseur when it came to kissing, but he knew a good thing when he felt it. Hermione looked at him, her eyes sparkling, and smiled gently. The redness in her cheeks was no longer from crying, and she looked truly happy - something that had been sorely lacking from her demeanour for a very long, very painful Monday.

"Thank you," she said quietly, trying to keep the blush from invading her voice.

"That's okay," Ron replied dazedly. Hermione smiled lightly and ran her finger down the side of Ron's face in a tender, affectionate gesture. Then she stood abruptly, still holding his gaze.

"We should do this again sometime," she said, surprising herself. Ron nodded in silent agreement and watched her leave the common room. She paused at the bottom of the staircase, wondering to herself how she had remained so calm under such circumstances. She turned around and looked at Ron, who was looking quite bemused, and smiled giddily. Somehow, she thought happily to herself as she quietly padded up the stairs, I don't think I'll be crying myself to sleep any more.