Fic: Bang
Title: Bang
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Ron/Hermione
Summary: Hermione. Ron. The Hospital Wing. Not the Missing Moment you think. (Post-HBP fic)
Author's Notes: Not mine. You should already know that by now. Thanks once more to my fantabulous beta, tehgiantsquid : )
Initial Posting: 1.10.06
~*~
Chaos. Total chaos. Smoking craters from badly aimed curses. Rage and bodies. Oh god, bodies. Red hair, red blood. God, was he dead? No sounds from inside. This wasn’t right, why had he been so lucky? Others should have been. Oh, right, the Felix. She took it, too. She should be all right. She had to be. Had to. Can’t think about it. Bill. Shite. Too quiet. Chaos, then quiet. What happens now?
~*~
Ron, facing the wall next to the heavy doors of the Hospital Wing. Resisting, not banging his forehead against it in frustration. If the silence continued to drag on, he would give in. Just to slow the tide of madness threatening to overwhelm him. Alone.
Bang
Shite, starting. Can’t help it. Was anyone okay except for him? Don’t know. Lost sight of them all in the battle. Some before. Lost them. Shite.
Bang
Hermione.
Bang
Stop it. Just stop it. She took the potion too. If he was all right, so was she. He just wanted to see her, see her, no traces of red-
Bang
Stop it.
Bang
A shriek. Was that just in his head? He turned from the wall. Hermione…
She ran at him, didn’t slow down, flung herself onto his neck, legs and arms twining themselves around him.
Hermione
“Thank god, thank god. You’re okay. You’re okay. I was so scared.”
Kisses. Raining down on his face, his neck, his skin, then tears and shaking. She was in his arms, she was safe, she was shaking, and he was crying with happiness. Her arms tightened and suddenly there wasn’t air. Just kisses and shaking and tears.
He set her down slowly, didn’t let her move away. Couldn’t close his eyes. Had to see, had to see her. Hands everywhere on her, no red, no red. Whole. Thank you. Oh, thank you.
“Ron, oh god, Ron, what happened? Professor Flitwick said Death Eaters, and then Snape, and oh god, I heard it, heard fighting, then it was so quiet. Professor McGonagall, she came down, and all she said was ‘Weasley’ and I was so scared…”
“It’s Bill. Bill, and Greyback-he bit him.”
Her hand to her mouth. No, no. Have to keep her touching. Touching, grounding.
“Is he-?”
“I don’t know. I can’t-I can’t-” Can’t speak. No words for this, too many words for this. Simpler, just seeing and touching and feeling. Feeling her whole. Real. Words aren’t.
He sank to the ground, took her with him. Hands together, foreheads together, just sitting.
“I thought I’d lost you. It was your birthday, all over again. You aren’t allowed to scare me like this for at least another year and a half. Twice in three months is more than enough to be going on with.” Her voice, shaky with relief. Teasing. Normal. Serious again. “What happened?”
Hesitation. Resistance. “Malfoy got past us. Instant Darkness Powder. Then there was a battle-I hardly remember. It was chaos. I lost track of almost everyone, just followed Bill up here when they brought him. Neville, too. Ginny said Harry came back; she went to go find him. I didn’t see.” Silence, urging him to speak. “You?” A little better, a bit more air.
“Professor Flitwick came to get Snape and fainted when Snape ran off. Luna and I were bringing him around when McGonagall arrived. Then I couldn’t see anymore, I just had to get here, make sure you were alright.” No tears this time, just closed eyes and fingers pulling invisible lint from his shirt. “I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life.”
A kiss, comfort, a pale forehead.
~*~
Quiet again. Stretching on and on and filling everything, the halls, the dorms, his heart. Still chaos.
He stood again. Paced. Footfalls echoing in the quiet, a fist to the mirror of the silence, needing the noise. Too much noise. He sat again.
“Your forehead’s all red. Did you get hit with something? Are you hurt? Let me see.”
“Just the wall, Hermione. Just the wall.”
“What?”
“I was banging my head against it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Anger, madness, grief.
Bill.
Bang
The back of his head this time. Push it forward, push it out, push it away.
Bang
Push.
Bang
“Ron, don’t. Please don’t.” Fingers soothing, pulling him down, away, towards.
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
Won’t bang, won’t pace. Won’t. Hermione. Hold Hermione. Grounding.
~*~
Waiting. Weighing. Weight. The castle pressing down, heaviness of the students, waiting. Time dragging forward, pulling the silence, forcing it to shatter with her words.
“I hate this.”
“Me too.”
Fear.
An interruption, the forms of Luna, McGonagall, Flitwick. Luna sits, doors open, professors disappear. Time, waiting. Reappear.
“You may go in and see Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom now, if you wish. They are resting.”
Luna rises. Hermione rises.
“Ron?”
Too soon, too sudden. No red, anywhere. On his face, in his face. Did his hair drain too?
“I-” Crack. Swallow. “I need a minute. Please.”
“As you wish, Mr. Weasley.”
Gone, alone again. He’s okay. Bill.
“Ron?”
She’s still here, still waiting, waiting for him. No, waiting with him. That’s good.
“I just need to-I need-” Quick breath, frustration. “I-It was scary and now it’s not, and…I just need a minute. To adjust. Before I see him and have to be scared all over again.”
Her voice, barely audible in the space between them. “I’m still scared.”
Waiting again, delaying, holding himself off from that moment when the silence and the noise and the fear and relief and anger and hope and madness all collide with no escape. In the hallway, waiting, holding her and preventing that moment. Terrible. That moment was terrible and waiting was terrible and this was terrible and he hated it.
But it was known.
And her hands in his, touching, grounding.
“Hermione, what if-”
“Shh, don’t say it.”
Seconds. Minutes.
Something new. Something holding back the rest, stronger than all. Powerful.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
And her fingers, again, soothing, pulling, calming. A sound in his ear. This time not breaking the silence but sweetening it, warming it, making love to it. Beautiful.
Her heart.
~*~
A/N the second: It can be damn irritating to write for Ron and Hermione sometimes. You get this wonderful plot arc, come up with all this great dialogue for the two of them, but then you give it to them, and they just refuse to say it. No, they have to say what they’re feeling, do what they want to do, not what you’ve planned. This story was not supposed to be this damn angsty. Infuriating, stubborn, headstrong jerks. ~Grumble~
maria_abagnale's gorgeous illustration. Praise her here
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Ron/Hermione
Summary: Hermione. Ron. The Hospital Wing. Not the Missing Moment you think. (Post-HBP fic)
Author's Notes: Not mine. You should already know that by now. Thanks once more to my fantabulous beta, tehgiantsquid : )
Initial Posting: 1.10.06
~*~
Chaos. Total chaos. Smoking craters from badly aimed curses. Rage and bodies. Oh god, bodies. Red hair, red blood. God, was he dead? No sounds from inside. This wasn’t right, why had he been so lucky? Others should have been. Oh, right, the Felix. She took it, too. She should be all right. She had to be. Had to. Can’t think about it. Bill. Shite. Too quiet. Chaos, then quiet. What happens now?
~*~
Ron, facing the wall next to the heavy doors of the Hospital Wing. Resisting, not banging his forehead against it in frustration. If the silence continued to drag on, he would give in. Just to slow the tide of madness threatening to overwhelm him. Alone.
Bang
Shite, starting. Can’t help it. Was anyone okay except for him? Don’t know. Lost sight of them all in the battle. Some before. Lost them. Shite.
Bang
Hermione.
Bang
Stop it. Just stop it. She took the potion too. If he was all right, so was she. He just wanted to see her, see her, no traces of red-
Bang
Stop it.
Bang
A shriek. Was that just in his head? He turned from the wall. Hermione…
She ran at him, didn’t slow down, flung herself onto his neck, legs and arms twining themselves around him.
Hermione
“Thank god, thank god. You’re okay. You’re okay. I was so scared.”
Kisses. Raining down on his face, his neck, his skin, then tears and shaking. She was in his arms, she was safe, she was shaking, and he was crying with happiness. Her arms tightened and suddenly there wasn’t air. Just kisses and shaking and tears.
He set her down slowly, didn’t let her move away. Couldn’t close his eyes. Had to see, had to see her. Hands everywhere on her, no red, no red. Whole. Thank you. Oh, thank you.
“Ron, oh god, Ron, what happened? Professor Flitwick said Death Eaters, and then Snape, and oh god, I heard it, heard fighting, then it was so quiet. Professor McGonagall, she came down, and all she said was ‘Weasley’ and I was so scared…”
“It’s Bill. Bill, and Greyback-he bit him.”
Her hand to her mouth. No, no. Have to keep her touching. Touching, grounding.
“Is he-?”
“I don’t know. I can’t-I can’t-” Can’t speak. No words for this, too many words for this. Simpler, just seeing and touching and feeling. Feeling her whole. Real. Words aren’t.
He sank to the ground, took her with him. Hands together, foreheads together, just sitting.
“I thought I’d lost you. It was your birthday, all over again. You aren’t allowed to scare me like this for at least another year and a half. Twice in three months is more than enough to be going on with.” Her voice, shaky with relief. Teasing. Normal. Serious again. “What happened?”
Hesitation. Resistance. “Malfoy got past us. Instant Darkness Powder. Then there was a battle-I hardly remember. It was chaos. I lost track of almost everyone, just followed Bill up here when they brought him. Neville, too. Ginny said Harry came back; she went to go find him. I didn’t see.” Silence, urging him to speak. “You?” A little better, a bit more air.
“Professor Flitwick came to get Snape and fainted when Snape ran off. Luna and I were bringing him around when McGonagall arrived. Then I couldn’t see anymore, I just had to get here, make sure you were alright.” No tears this time, just closed eyes and fingers pulling invisible lint from his shirt. “I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life.”
A kiss, comfort, a pale forehead.
~*~
Quiet again. Stretching on and on and filling everything, the halls, the dorms, his heart. Still chaos.
He stood again. Paced. Footfalls echoing in the quiet, a fist to the mirror of the silence, needing the noise. Too much noise. He sat again.
“Your forehead’s all red. Did you get hit with something? Are you hurt? Let me see.”
“Just the wall, Hermione. Just the wall.”
“What?”
“I was banging my head against it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Anger, madness, grief.
Bill.
Bang
The back of his head this time. Push it forward, push it out, push it away.
Bang
Push.
Bang
“Ron, don’t. Please don’t.” Fingers soothing, pulling him down, away, towards.
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
Won’t bang, won’t pace. Won’t. Hermione. Hold Hermione. Grounding.
~*~
Waiting. Weighing. Weight. The castle pressing down, heaviness of the students, waiting. Time dragging forward, pulling the silence, forcing it to shatter with her words.
“I hate this.”
“Me too.”
Fear.
An interruption, the forms of Luna, McGonagall, Flitwick. Luna sits, doors open, professors disappear. Time, waiting. Reappear.
“You may go in and see Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom now, if you wish. They are resting.”
Luna rises. Hermione rises.
“Ron?”
Too soon, too sudden. No red, anywhere. On his face, in his face. Did his hair drain too?
“I-” Crack. Swallow. “I need a minute. Please.”
“As you wish, Mr. Weasley.”
Gone, alone again. He’s okay. Bill.
“Ron?”
She’s still here, still waiting, waiting for him. No, waiting with him. That’s good.
“I just need to-I need-” Quick breath, frustration. “I-It was scary and now it’s not, and…I just need a minute. To adjust. Before I see him and have to be scared all over again.”
Her voice, barely audible in the space between them. “I’m still scared.”
Waiting again, delaying, holding himself off from that moment when the silence and the noise and the fear and relief and anger and hope and madness all collide with no escape. In the hallway, waiting, holding her and preventing that moment. Terrible. That moment was terrible and waiting was terrible and this was terrible and he hated it.
But it was known.
And her hands in his, touching, grounding.
“Hermione, what if-”
“Shh, don’t say it.”
Seconds. Minutes.
Something new. Something holding back the rest, stronger than all. Powerful.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
And her fingers, again, soothing, pulling, calming. A sound in his ear. This time not breaking the silence but sweetening it, warming it, making love to it. Beautiful.
Her heart.
~*~
A/N the second: It can be damn irritating to write for Ron and Hermione sometimes. You get this wonderful plot arc, come up with all this great dialogue for the two of them, but then you give it to them, and they just refuse to say it. No, they have to say what they’re feeling, do what they want to do, not what you’ve planned. This story was not supposed to be this damn angsty. Infuriating, stubborn, headstrong jerks. ~Grumble~
maria_abagnale's gorgeous illustration. Praise her here