Reconciliation
Title: Reconciliation Prompt/Day: Day 2 - Ron talks about the Snatchers Tumblr name: Rating: PG-13 Brief summary: After Ron suffers a nightmare, Hermione is there to comfort him. Any possible triggering/warning tags: Violence, nightmares
The images were cloudy in his mind, his vision tear-blurred from the vicious kick to the gut that dropped him to the ground. Rough voices and sinister laughter rang in his ears, the smell of sweat, dirt, and blood burned his nostrils.
Disoriented, he glanced up from his prone position. In desperation, he reached a feeble hand out at the shapes, hers the most obvious as she was pulled away from him, her screams echoing in the forest.
He could hear himself yelling out, his voice foreign to even himself. “No, don’t take her! HERMIONE!”
He woke up with a start, his eyes wide open, taking in her face hovering above his.
“You’re alright,” Ron gasped, trying to regain his bearings.
Though dark in the tent, there was enough light from a nearby bluebell jar to make out the mixture of concern and confusion on her face. A stray chestnut curl escaped from behind her ear, dangling between them. Blurry, then sharp, then blurry again. With a mind of its own, his hand reached up, fingertips trembling, and almost brushed her cheek—wanting desperately to feel that she was safe.
Suddenly remembering where he was, he pulled away as if burnt. The heavy silence roared in his ears.
“Are you alright, Ron?” Hermione whispered, breaking the tension. “You were restless and moaning.”
Despite the beads of cold sweat dotting his forehead, his cheeks flushed.
“Just a nightmare.”
She nodded, stealing a brief glance at the entrance as if reassuring him they were alone. Harry had been out on watch before he dozed off, and he had no idea how much time had passed. His eyes searched hers, the worry in them obvious. It gave him a warm jolt to know she was fretting over him.
“Do you want to talk about it? Was it about what happened at the Lovegoods?”
It was almost like things were back to normal, as if that chasm between them had suddenly closed.
“No, it wasn’t about that.”
Another brief silence.
“You… you said my name.” She stated quietly. “In your sleep, I mean. You sounded very distressed.”
He closed his eyes momentarily, embarrassed, before his eyelashes fluttered open, taking every opportunity to study her face up close. “Bloody snatchers.” She scrunched her nose, in that cute way she did when confronted with something she didn’t immediately understand. He almost smiled.
“I thought you said you escaped them rather easily. You even joked about it!”
He grimaced. “It didn’t seem like the right time to go into it. They did knock me around a little at first, blackened my eye, kicked me in the ribs when I was down, that sort of thing.”
Hermione flashed him a look of sympathy and shifted closer on the camp bed. “And you still managed to get away?”
Her sudden interest gave him a burst of confidence, causing him to sit up. “Yeah. They were a dim lot, and I was hurt. When I eventually got to Shell Cottage, Bill fixed me up.”
“All except this?” She grabbed his hand gently, examining his two missing fingernails in the wavering light.
He gulped hard at the intimacy of the gesture. His courage failed him—all he wanted to do was entwine their fingers together and pull her close. He didn’t have that right, he reminded himself. He’d lost it when he left her.
“I asked him not to. He thought I was mental.”
She surveyed him thoughtfully. “Why?”
“It reminded me of what I had done. To Harry, and especially to you.”
“Oh.”
Her features softened as he continued on, knowing this was a sore subject for her. He needed her to believe she was never far from his thoughts. “The nightmare, well, it’s one I had many times when I was away.”
She leaned in slightly, encouraging him. “I got really, really lucky with the snatchers that found me. When I was at Bill and Fleur’s place, I heard all sorts of mental stories. Some of these gangs are merciless with their captives.” He shuddered visibly. “Even Fenrir Greyback is supposedly out there.”
Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth as she let out a gasp. “That’s horrible. All those poor witches and wizards just trying to survive.”
He nodded. “You and Harry were out here, unaware of what was going on. You could have been caught at any time. I needed to get back to you. I needed to warn you about how dangerous it was. I never stopped thinking about you.” Ron paused, his voice wavering. “I… I just hope you believe me.”
Hermione took a deep breath. “I… I do. I do believe you.”
He grinned slightly. “Thank you.”
“So that’s what you were having a nightmare about?”
Ron’s jubilation was replaced by a frown. “I kept dreaming that I finally found you, but as soon as I did, you were caught and taken away.” He clenched his fists in frustration and looked skyward. “I felt so bloody helpless that I couldn’t save you. You’d be screaming and I would be laying there, unable to do anything. Every night, those same visions would come back, tormenting me. I was so scared I’d never see you again.”
Her hands covered his, his head snapping down to again meet her stare. Her eyes were glassy, and it broke his heart to once again be the cause of her tears.
“You’re back now, that’s all that matters. We’re safe, at least as much as we can be. I hope that knowledge puts a stop to your nightmares.”
“I’d hardly call this safe.”
“Well, when we’re not escaping from roving gangs, giant snakes, or exploding houses.”
He let out a dry chuckle at her statement, and Hermione returned a watery smile.
“I just… need you know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to protect you, and Harry, as much as I can. It’s just a good thing you said my name that day.”
Ron could see a flash of guilt cross her face as she looked away.
“What? What did I say?”
“I just… all we had to say your name out loud, and we could have got you back much sooner. There was so much time lost, so much pain and hurt for all of us.”
She’d hit on something that had been bothering him since he returned. He asked the question gently. “Why didn’t you say my name earlier?”
Hermione’s voice dropped to a barely distinguishable volume. “It was too hard, for both of us. We missed you terribly. Your leaving… we could barely function without you. I need you to know that.”
“Harry said something like that, too. You… you really mean that?”
“Of course, Ron.” She gripped his forearms. “You mean so much to me, and to Harry as well.”
He couldn’t help it at that moment and pulled her into a hug. Her body stiffened for a second before relaxing in his embrace, her hands gripping fistfuls of his shirt. He flashed back to his brother’s wedding, when he last held her in his arms, and tightened his grip.
So lost in the closeness, neither registered the sound of the tent flap opening until they were rudely interrupted by the sound of Harry clearing his throat. They quickly sprung apart; their blushes visible in the flickering light.
Though things had been strained due to the debate about Horcruxes and Hallows, Harry’s smirk couldn’t be contained. “Kissed and made up, have you?”
Hermione stood up and sputtered, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on her jumper. “We did nothing of the sort! Ron had a nightmare and I was concerned. You two get some sleep, I’ll be keeping watch.”
“Hermione?”
“Yes, Ron?”
“Thank you.” He smiled at her, which she returned. They remained fixed in place, saying so much without saying a thing.
Harry was glancing between them, watching this exchange with great amusement. “You were going on watch, Hermione?”
Her tone was clearly one of annoyance. “Go to sleep, Harry.”
As she left the tent, Ron laid back down and stared up, hands behind his head. The grin on his face not a threat to leave anytime soon.
“Alright, mate?” Harry called out.
“Couldn’t be better.”
