The Time In Between

Chapter 2: The Pre-Nuptial Affair

It had been three days since Ron encountered Hermione in the bathroom. The next morning had been...uncomfortable. Maybe only for him but he had a hard time reconciling the Hermione sitting across from him at breakfast with the Hermione he had seen in the bathroom. Ron thought he much preferred "bathroom" Hermione-slightly damp from her shower, wearing very un-Hermione-like pajamas. But then, there she was the next morning in her usual jeans and t-shirt and Ron found he was even more intrigued, knowing what lay beneath the denim and cotton.

Ron loved food, especially his mother's food, but he could not wait to get through that breakfast. Hermione was already sitting at the table, looking fresh and well-rested, exactly opposite of how he felt. His mum had made the usual fare for the morning: eggs, bacon, pancakes, and toast. She had also made a pot of oatmeal, Hermione's favorite. For six years Ron had watched her eat oatmeal. She was methodical: two spoonfuls of brown sugar, a handful of walnuts and a handful of raisins. That morning shouldn't have been any different except for one thing: after Hermione stirred in her toppings of choice, she would take her first spoonful, hold it before her lips and blow on it. Ron had never thought anything of it before. But now, the sight of her lips like that had taken on a whole new meaning for him. It had only been a few short hours earlier that those lips had been blowing the sting away from the cut on his face.

Ron was anxious all day, concerned about being along with Hermione and even more concerned that he wouldn't be able to be with her at all. His mum made short work of that. In fact, Ron thought, the only time they had been alone was that first night in the bathroom. Mrs. Weasley had them cleaning, cooking, gardening, washing, all in preparation for the wedding. Ron couldn't remember a time when he had been so physically exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open during dinner! He would stumble up the stairs, take a quick shower, and then stumble back to his room, collapsing on his bed. Then just when he could feel himself drifting off, there she would be. Some image of Hermione would pop into his head. It was like a flashback of the moments he had seen her during the day: washing dishes at the sink, trying to blow her curls out of her eyes. Sitting with Ginny in the dining room, polishing endless trays of silver, a smudge of dirt on her nose (how he would have loved to point that out to her.) It seemed like every time he had a spare moment to talk with her, one of his parents would appear with a new and tedious chore for him to do. The only other person who was probably just as frustrated was Harry.

Ron could tell that Harry was chomping at the bit to get started on the horcrux search. The three of them had thought they would have plenty of time to plan here at the Burrow but things weren't working out the way they had thought they would. Even Ron was getting a bit panicked over it. There were so many unanswered questions. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Although he was supposed to be cleaning his room, Ron was sprawled out on his bed after dinner, pondering the issues of the horcruxes. He was hoping that Dumbledore had passed on some extra bit of wisdom to Harry, something that would be revealed at the right moment. He couldn't help but somewhat doubt that though. Ron was pretty confident that Harry had confided everything to himself and Hermione. A bloke could hope though.

A timid knock at the door broke his reverie. Before he could jump off his bed (his mum had a sneaky way of appearing), the door opened a crack as a pert little nose peered around it.

"Hi," said Hermione. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning up in here," she asked, staring pointedly at him lounging on his bed.

"Well, yeah," Ron replied," just like you are supposed to be changing sheets, right?"

Rolling her eyes in that trademark way, Hermione said, "We did it yesterday, your mother forgot."