Nargles & Neruda

A Head Full Of Flames

Hermione heard the familiar flutter of wings approaching over her shoulder. She looked up to see a tawny owl with a small note tied to its foot.

Meet me in the common room at Midnight – Ron

Hermione smiled to herself. Ron hadn't been writing as often as she'd have liked, not that she found his flippant, haphazard communication very surprising. That he wanted to talk to her tonight excited her. She had been dying to tell him about how her silent charms had been going and equally curious to hear about his training in detail. Ron had recently learned the same spell that Sirius had used to speak through the fireplace and apparently he planned to use it. One partner's head crackling in the embers of a fire was not the makings of the most romantic of dates, but under the circumstances, it was enough.

By midnight, the common room was empty. There was rain gently knocking against the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder filling the silence.

Fifteen minutes late, Ron's head popped into the fireplace. Hermione's annoyance at his tardiness was quickly chilled at the sight of his face. "Ronald! It's so good to see you!"

"Hey, Hermione! Wow, it feels like forever since I've been in this place. Looks pretty much the same though, doesn't it? Like I never left..."

Hermione looked around. "I'm pretty sure it's looked the same for the past 1008 years, Ronald. And you've only been gone one."

"Right you are, my little bookworm," Ron said with a goofy smile.

Even through the haze of the flames, Hermione could hear the firewhisky in his voice. "Ron, are you drunk?"

"Wha? No, no, not me Hermione. Harry and I went out with some of the other Aurors in training after work, and I may have had a couple. But just a couple," he added hurriedly at Hermione's pursed lips. "I'm not drunk 'Mione. Tipsy at most," he explained, still slurring his words slightly and never losing that broad grin.

Hermione didn't say anything but Ron was undeterred. "I'm telling you, Hermione, those Aurors really know how to party. You'd think they'd be such a serious lot, but nah, not when they let loose."

Hermione cut him off. "So training is still going well, I take it?" She said loudly enough to change the subject.

Ron was thankfully diverted. "Oh, it's been great Hermione. We've been learning loads of counter jinxes and stuff like that. It's been like the D.A. was back then, but all day."

Hermione smiled at the memory. She missed the mischief and the well-intentioned rule-breaking that colored her other years at Hogwarts.

But before she had long to reminisce, Ron was off again. "Oh and Hermione, we went to this Ministry event yesterday for, I don't know, some new department opening up. I honestly wasn't even sure what we were doing there, but the way everyone was talking to us, you'd think we were running the department ourselves. Did you see the Prophet today? I was hoping there might be a picture of us, there was so much press coverage," he trailed off in a nostalgic haze. "I keep expecting people to calm down about us, but they just don't. It's amazing who kept coming up to us. All these... all these..."

"Babes? Is that what you're trying to say, Ronald?" Hermione asked shrilly, remembering a conversation she had overheard between Ron and Seamus where he had used exactly that word to describe all the witches who had been fawning over him this summer.

"What?" Ron asked taken aback by the new force in her voice. "No, Hermione. Just people. Important people of all genders." He paused to see her face still livid. He put on a smile that he clearly believed to be charming and said. "C'mon Hermione. You know I don't care about any of that. You're all I'm looking for."

Hermione smiled, but she knew it wasn't true. He cared about it very much, and with the way Ron had been drinking, it seemed like only a matter of time before things went too far.

"But c'mon Hermione, I keep telling you. You should just ditch school and come down here with us! You shouldn't be missing out on all the fun, locking yourself up with your revision timetable. And then you'd be here to fend off the babes yourself!" Ron said with a hearty laugh. But this time, he had gone too far. Not only to bring up the same argument that they'd had twenty times before but then to imply that she should give up what she wanted just to mark her territory around him? What was she to do, stand by him at all times hissing and spitting at any other witch who looked his way?

Hermione exhaled sharply in disbelief. "I cannot believe you, Ron. We have fought about this how many times now? And still, you cannot respect my decision. Don't you understand that this is important to me?" Hermione was practically shrieking.

"No, Hermione. No, I can't understand why. You already know everything, as you're so fond of showing off. I don't know what you think you're getting out of this. I know you love your books and your parchment, but I thought you were supposed to love me too," Ron said huffily, clearly indignant at Hermione's anger.

"Yes, I love you. But also, yes, I love my books and my parchment as you said so condescendingly. I want to be here with my revision timetable, Ronald, and no, not just to show off to you. But it's not just about the classes. Don't you see that it's important to me that something still be normal? I've lost my family and countless friends, and funnily enough that doesn't put me in the mood for a rave and photographers treating me like a circus animal," Hermione said in a harsh whisper, trying not to rouse the entire tower.

"That's not fair. I've lost people too you know. You're not the only one whose life is emptier from the war," Ron retorted.

Hermione was silent for a second. "I know Ron, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to say that..." Hermione trailed off, feeling awkward and uncomfortable mentioning any names in such heated circumstances.

"Right. Well, some of us are trying to move forward. The war brought a lot of pain, but it's over and that's brought a lot of good things to my life. Personally, I'd rather focus on those," Ron spat sullenly.

Tears stung Hermione's eyes but she refused to let them fall. "Of course you would, Ron. Why wouldn't you," Hermione muttered dejectedly. "Look, I don't want to keep having this conversation now, okay? It's late and I ought to be going. It is a school night for me after all," Hermione said sardonically.

"Right. Fine. I'll talk to you later then. Bye Hermione," and Ron was gone.

A tear fell down Hermione's cheek and she looked at the now empty fire. She hadn't even spoken to Ron about her silent spells. She hadn't gotten the chance. As she watched the place in the fire where he had been only a second before, she couldn't help but remember watching him disappear into the woods last year. It seemed she was always watching him leave with a tear-stained face.

She felt like she had to get out of the common room. It felt too small and too cramped. She ran up to her trunk and retrieved Harry's parting gift: his father's cloak, only a loan of course. Harry's note was still tucked inside-

In case you want to get up to any mischief of your own this year.

She pulled on the cloak and ran into the moonlit corridor.