A World Now Safe for Dreams

A World Now Safe for Dreams

It was over.

Neither of them could really believe it. Voldemort had been defeated. He was gone. Completely gone. He could hurt them no longer, could hurt Harry no longer. Their best friend looked younger today than they had ever seen him. He was still exhausted, they could tell (it had been little over 24 hours, after all) but he had the inner glow of a victor. And the first thing he had done upon returning from battle had been to kiss Ginny Weasley, as if he felt he had finally earned her love. That relationship was being celebrated in the common room as jubilantly as Voldemort's defeat.

But no matter how much they enjoyed seeing Harry finally happy, or how glad they were for him and Ginny, Ron and Hermione felt they needed to escape the party and be alone. With minimal words exchanged, they clasped hands, and walked outside into a brilliant early summer day.

Ron and Hermione had been dating for almost a year and a half. As relieved as they were at Voldemort's demise, they felt different, somehow, and they weren't yet comfortable with the difference. First of all, they felt like the dynamics of their entire relationship were shifting. In sixth year, they had both come to the point where they felt they couldn't do it alone anymore, and had gotten together as a sort of mutual support pact, promising to help each other do what they must to be Harry's friend and fight the war. But at the same time, they'd had to be wary of their growing dependence on each other, continually reminding each other that either of them could be lost any day. At one point Hermione had even refused to allow Ron to make any plans more than a week in advance. It had been very much a day-by-day living-in-the-moment sort of thing, and now the future they'd trained themselves out of hoping for stretched before them like a huge expanse of blankness.

Now that Voldemort was gone, much of the need that had driven them to each others' arms was gone too. Both were afraid they'd feel the other falling away from them, growing distant, in this first pause alone. Both were afraid to ask the question weighing on their minds: "Do you still need me?" When they dared to reverse the question on themselves, to ask whether this person whose hand they were holding was still necessary to them--"Do I still need you?"--they were shocked at their own answer: "No, I don't think I do. I don't want to get by alone, but now I could. I don't need you anymore but I do still love you." Then they each grew afraid of the other person having the same reaction. Need provides security in relationships, and that security was now gone. They both wanted the other to need them, because need felt more sure than whatever else this was, and because it was what they were used to. But at the same time, they knew you could not force love, and didn't want to try. They were ready and willing to say goodbye if the other wanted to-they would, after all, be able to live. They even felt their hands loosening their hold, until the fingers were barely touching, without weight or pull. Neither wanted to let go entirely.

Ron was still pondering all this when Hermione said suddenly, "It's great, isn't it?"

Her voice sounded a little forced, as if she was only saying what she thought she should.

"Yeah, great," he said in the same tone.

"I'm still reeling, aren't you? I've only just begun to think of everything this means...the whole world is changed, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Completely changed..." Ron trailed off. Thinking of a entire world without Voldemort made him see that his and Hermione's changed relationship was only a minor part of everything that would never be the same. His mind suddenly started to grow giddy, filling with joyful examples of all the things that were now possible, and impossible.

"No more trolls in the castle," he said with a smile, although the fact that he never would have become friends with Hermione if it weren't for that troll made it bittersweet.

"No more chess games of death," Hermione responded, thinking that the bravery Ron had displayed then had begun her long fall into love with him.

"Malfoy's where he belongs, and he'll never call you another name again." Ron felt a fierce satisfaction knowing that the boy who'd made his, Harry's and Hermione's lives hell was getting his just deserts in Azkaban.

"The house-elves and centaurs and goblins and giants all should have a respectable place in wizard society, after everything they did in the battle." Hermione's hope for interspecies equality was finally in sight of being realized.

"Of course, now Dad's Minister. No more of that 'pure blood' nonsense. Lupin'll be able to find a job too."

"And no more Death Eaters masquerading as teachers." The real identity of Mad-Eye Moody fourth year had shook Hermione's faith in the world. Teachers were supposed to be the most trustworthy of all.

"Or rats." Ron still felt slightly guilty about who Scabbers had turned out to be.

"Everyone exactly who they seem to be." No more unfounded suspicions or constant second-guessing.

"And no more snakes hiding in the pipes." That year he'd come so close to losing his sister...and his best friend.

"No more unicorns killed." Innocence is safe, Hermione thought.

"No more sad and depressed Harry." He's been through so much, Ron thought.

"No more angry and raging Harry!" Hermione pointed out what was to her the greater relief.

"And no more Ginny dating random Ravenclaws," Ron added with a grin.

"No more wet shirts from me crying all over you," Hermione joked, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off the place on his shoulder where she normally would rest her head.

Ron stiffened and dropped her hand. Did she mean?

"You still could; I didn't mind," he said. If she wanted this to be over, that was fine, but at least he had to assure her that she'd been welcome...

"No, that's ok, I don't think I'll need to cry anymore." She smiled. Hermione felt lighter and more relaxed every moment, like she'd been carrying a heavy bookbag, and the books were evaporating one by one, until she hadn't a single burden left. Even this...thing with Ron, this adaptation their relationship was being forced into, was an incredibly minor problem. They'd both survived, after all, and wasn't that most important? Everything else would work itself out. She trusted him not to leave her, even without need keeping him firmly attached. She moved her hand back close to his, where he could take it again if he wanted.

"I don't think so either...I hope not...." As nice as it had been to be needed, it was better this way, Ron thought. 'She needed me because she felt sad and weak. I don't want her to feel like that. It's ok if she doesn't need me. I don't need her to need me.' The thought was new and amazing to Ron, he was so used to needing Hermione and feeling her need him too. This release from the expectations and obligations of need was more about real love, freely given and received, than anything they'd said or done together before yesterday. He took her hand again, lightly and loosely.

"And, Ron, Hogwarts can be a school again, not a fortress in the middle of a war, where learning is impossible because of all the precautions," Hermione said as they walked on. It had nearly driven her mad, not being allowed to use the library.

"Yeah, kids can go to class and know that their dorms will be there when they get back." The day Gryffindor Tower had collapsed still haunted them both.

"Parents can send their kid to school and know they'll come back." It hadn't always been a given in Hermione's house...

"Of course, 'cause Dumbledore will be there to make sure they're all safe. No more coups trying to get rid of him," Ron said logically.

"A kid can grow up without being afraid," Hermione summed up. Fear had been their constant companion...

"A kid can be born in a world where he has a future!" His dad had once told him that they'd been sad, scared and anxious at the news that he was coming, because, with Voldemort in power, they'd almost felt they had no business bringing a child into such a horrible and dangerous world. Back then, life was only a curse parents inflicted upon their children.

"Parents can have a baby knowing they'll live to see it grow up!" Hermione thought of the Potters.

"And they can even hope to give that baby something better than what they had!" Why, it would be a sure thing, Ron thought. Anything would be better than what we had to live through.

"A baby," Hermione breathed.

Ron and Hermione just looked at each other, and neither was able to say anything. The growing pause was quickly making the thought into a suggestion; the very air around them was becoming (dare they think it?) pregnant with anticipation.

Breathing shallowly, they looked at each other in fear of the suggestion, in fear of backing down from the suggestion, in fear of scaring the other into backing down from the suggestion.

Neither backed down.

Hermione's hand instinctively flew to her stomach, where she thought she felt something leap, and Ron, surprising them both with his boldness, placed his hand on hers.

They continued to look at each other, and the hands dropped and intertwined as they both came to understand a decision they seemed to have made long ago. Their blind, consuming need for each other was gone, but there was still love. There was no longer anything but choice keeping them together. The blank future was slowly filling with visions beautiful beyond hope, of a home, and family... The world was safe for it now; dreams could be dreamed without bitterness, and life was again a blessing. And Ron and Hermione suddenly realized that they had been fighting not only for Harry, but for the creation of this world, where they would be able to build something real out of what they had together. Before, it had only been a sad and futureless game of pretend, more about receiving comfort now than giving love forever. The change was fearsome and wonderful.

"Hermione," Ron gulped, and said softly and seriously, "I know we're just 17, but I think-someday-I'm going to ask you to marry me."

She smiled, more with her eyes than her mouth.

"I hope you do," she murmured.

He lowered his head to hide his broad grin, and saw their linked hands. Struck by a sudden inspiration, he lifted the hand that he was still holding, her left, and twirled his thumb around her ring finger before kissing it.

'There,' he thought. 'It's sealed, but not too tangibly. We are just 17...there's no rush...and I don't trust myself to really kiss her right now...'

And, hand in hand, Ron and Hermione walked back to the common room celebration, and into the rest of their lives. Together. Now, at last, they could really begin...