Here's part 2 of my story. Because OotP made us all need Prozac, but the genre of R/H warm-fuzzy goodness will never die.



UNUSUAL (part 2)

In case you missed part 1...

Hermione squinted into the darkness as she stepped quietly down the stairs, holding her robe closed with one hand, smoothing her hair as much as possible with the other. Everyone in the house was asleep, but she herself had found it impossible to drift off, even after spending a few hours staring up at the ceiling. There was simply too much to think about, and lying in the dark only made it worse. She craved a glass of warm milk, not to mention the escape that awaited her in the book under her arm.

She saw light shining from the kitchen and wondered if Kreacher was awake as well. Approaching silently and peering around the corner, however, she felt her insides soften when she saw Ron. He was hunched over the table and seemed to be cutting paper. Hermione smiled. Somehow the sight of him, so quiet and unaware of being observed, brought about the same effect as reading and warm milk.

He had evidently attempted sleep as well. His hair was sticking up in all directions. He wore blue striped pajamas that he had outgrown ages ago; they came a few inches above his ankles when he sat. His shirt... Hermione felt a flush creep into her cheeks as she realized. His shirt was unbuttoned. She squinted her eyes again, trying to figure out what he was cutting. Then he set down the scissors and unfolded the paper, and her eyes widened as a new smile spread over her face. Ron was cutting snowflakes. She had no idea why, but she did know that he had done a beautiful job. The one he held up was cut in hundreds of intricate little shapes and patterns, so delicate that Hermione wondered how he could have done it with scissors and his large, awkward hands.

"Hi," she said softly, slipping into the doorway.

Ron quickly put the snowflake down and looked up. His ears were pink. "Hi." He watched her in silence as she sat across from him. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you're doing," she replied, setting her book to the side. She reached across the table and carefully took the snowflake, holding it up between them and watching him through the cut-out shapes. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No. You?"

"No." Hermione laid the snowflake on the table and met his eyes. "I'm sorry about your dad," she said. He said nothing, and she hadn't expected him too. Ron wasn't exactly one to state certain feelings. "It's scary, though, about Harry, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He stood up, and for a moment, she thought he was leaving. She opened her mouth in protest, then realized that he was taking two mugs from the cupboard. The world suddenly seemed peaceful, and her eyes followed Ron as he poured milk into the mugs, drew out his wand, and murmured a simple heating charm. Turning, he set the mug in front of her, and Hermione tried not to notice the way his shirt hung from his bare shoulders and chest. It was only Ron, after all.

"Thanks," she said, taking a slow sip.

Ron raked his long fingers through his already messy hair and studied her over the edge of his mug. "I'm tired."

"Me too." She sighed and took another sip. "When's your dad coming home?"

"Soon, I hope. Or else he might be in St. Mungo's for Christmas."

They fell into easy silence, both thoughtful, drinking their milk and staring at the snowflake between them. "What's that for?" Hermione asked finally.

"Just bored, I guess. Ginny was making them earlier, before you got here."

"It's really pretty." She glanced up and noted the flush that slipped under his freckles. "You know, there's a charm to--" He suddenly met her eyes with a big grin, and Hermione stopped. "What?"

He shook his head and glanced away. "Nothing.... Well...." He looked at her again. "Just that I know you too well for my own good."

Hermione took a moment to wonder what that meant. "I'm not entirely ignorant on the subject of Ron Weasley, either," she replied, smiling.

Ron grinned. "Are you ignorant of any subject?" He paused. "Besides Quidditch?" Hermione felt the familiar sensation of her heart beating a little faster, but said nothing. He was making fun of her, as usual, but she recognized his compliment and took it for what it was. Ron reached to his left and slid a piece of paper towards her. "Show me."

"What, the charm?"

"Yeah."

Hermione finished her milk and looked away. "I don't know it."

There was a brief silence, then Ron said, "Say that again?"

She smiled in spite of herself and met his eyes this time. "I don't know it."

He laughed. "Wait till I tell Harry..."

At the mention of Harry's name, Hermione sighed and stared down into her empty mug. She and Ron had spent half a year trying to get closer to him, but he only seemed to push them away more. But she didn't want this to be yet another long, serious discussion about Harry. They had been through quite enough of those over the past months. This was a chance to relax with each other - to try not to think of Harry, homework, exams, Prefect duties, Umbridge, and a million other things that always seemed to preoccupy them. The things that kept them awake at night.

"What do you want for Christmas?"

The question was so sudden and unexpected that Hermione had no idea what to say. "What do I want?" she repeated stupidly. Neither Ron nor Harry had ever asked her that before, and she had always assumed that the answer was obvious to them. She loved books. "Well, I... you've always gotten me a book, haven't you?"

Ron shrugged, running his forefinger around and around the edge of his mug. "Just thought you might want something different, I dunno."

"I guess I never really thought about it," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Ginny and I are going to Diagon Alley in the morning," he replied. "I thought maybe there was something you really wanted."

There was something she really wanted, but she wouldn't dream of telling him. She wanted him to stop being so blind and stupid... to say what they both knew he'd been wanting to say since last year.

"I want things to go back to normal," she said instead. "I miss having fun with you and Harry. I miss Hogwarts."

He said nothing, and they stared down once more at the snowflake. Finally, he said lightly, "I don't think they sell that at Flourish and Blotts."

"No," she replied absently, "I don't think they do."

"Well, I'll think of something," he said.

Hermione reached over and picked up the scissors, looping her fingers through them and twisting them around. "What about you? What do you want?" A long time passed with no answer, and Hermione studied his face. "Ron?"

"I want the same thing you do." She felt shallow and silly for wishing that he referred to what she had left unsaid. And she felt even shallower when he continued, "You know, it's like he hates us sometimes."

They'd had this discussion. More than once. It almost made her feel angry. Would Harry always be the center of everything? He was their friend, and he needed them. But what about them? Couldn't she talk to Ron about something else? Couldn't she drink warm milk and relax with him? Sometimes she felt that she and Ron orbited around Harry, and she wanted to break away. Then orbits made her think of Astronomy, and that made her think of exams...

"I don't know what I would have done this year without you."

Hermione's breath caught, and all the negative emotions coursing through her suddenly turned pleasant. She knew she needed to respond, but felt that if she did, it would shatter whatever wonderful spell had made Ron speak so openly. Fortunately, Ron didn't seem to be waiting for a reply, and actually went on.

"You were the only thing that stayed the same. Harry's changed, Hogwarts has changed, even Dumbledore's changed. Everything is strange and wrong somehow. But you stayed the same."

She bit her lip. Ron had never given her a better compliment. And if she thought about it, she knew that she could honestly say the same thing to him. "So did you."

He turned red to the tips of his ears, and Hermione smiled. She often thought to herself in exasperation that Ron would never change. And tonight, the idea made her happy.