Drawing Questions
Rating: T
Summary: "Would you...maybe, someday?" Ron is in a funny mood today.
Warnings: Mention of scars
Lazy sunday afternoons were Hermione's favourite. Ron and Hermione spent almost all of their Sunday afternoons in the cosy living room of their flat. On Saturday mornings, one or both of them would inevitably be called off to work and Hermione's mum insisted they have Saturday night dinners at her house. And Sundays, well, breakfast at the Burrow had been made mandatory a long time ago and dinner with the Harry and Ginny was their own little tradition. But on Sunday afternoons, Hermione would make sure they had no interruptions. Those times were all theirs, to languish as they pleased.
Sometimes they would utilise this time for other, ahem, activities. But for now, Hermione sat on the couch with a book in her lap, her legs thrown over Ron's. She didn't seem to be too interested in reading though as her brain was much more pre-occupied in other things, namely, gazing at Ron. She had been at it for a while now, and he hadn't even noticed. He seemed rather engrossed in his current project, and she was taking advantage of this rare, tranquil moment.
She watched as he made long confident strokes with a thick pen on a large sheet of parchment that he held balanced on their tangled limbs. Not many people knew this about Ron, even Harry hadn't realised during their Hogwarts years, that Ron could draw. He could draw really well.
She had first found out in third year, when for once, she had to borrow his notes on Cheering Charms. She had been taking too many classes and exhaustion was catching up to her. Her notes weren't as full and detailed as she was used to making and contrary to popular belief, Ron made decent notes when he wanted to. Besides, he had always tried extra hard in Charms after the Wingardium Leviosa fiasco in their first year. He had handed over the notes when she asked, without hesitation. Later that night, she found a sketch he had made on a scrap of parchment which was hidden between the notes. It was a remarkable likeness of Professor Flitwick, standing atop a stack of books. She was amazed, but when she talked to him, he blushed and changed the subject. She had let it go at the time. But ever since the war, he had spent a lot of his free time doodling and sketching. As a result, he had become quite the artist. She supposed it helped him cope in some way. He and Luna would often go on walks around town or in the woods, which they called their 'nature drawing trips'. They also loved visiting muggle art supply stores, with her and Harry's help of course. Ron was, quite frankly, hopeless when it came to muggle things. Luna hadn't fared much better in that department despite having received an O in Muggle Studies on her NEWTs.
She now watched as he poked out his tongue in concentration, slouched over his artwork. He seemed to suddenly sense her as he looked up from his illustration and smiled at her.
"Hi."
She smiled back.
"Hey. What are you drawing?"
"Not what. Who. I'm drawing you, my favourite subject." he said with a grin.
"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become so suave, Mr. Weasley?" she asked, matching his grin.
He tossed his drawing board on the coffee table that his feet rested on, and pulled Hermione even closer by her legs.
"It's only true." he said. "You're my favourite everything."
He took her left hand in his and pushed back the sleeve of her jumper, never once taking his eyes off hers. It was not that cold, but she still covered up her arms as much as possible. She loathed looking at that word etched on her arm. But she tried to push the thought away.
He smiled at her again, but his eyes seemed unusually intense. He seemed to be in a funny mood this afternoon.
"What are you doing?" she asked, although she knew full well what he intended to do.
"Can I draw on you?" he always asked first, to make sure she was okay with it. Ron knew how she felt about her scars, and as often as possible, he would try to make her see herself as he did. He loved drawing around it, she loved it when he did that. It would always make her feel better, at least for a while. It seemed to give him some sort of temporary catharsis too. They were healing bit by bit, together.
She nodded, and smiled warmly at him. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles and turned her hand over. He scooted closer to her and pulled off the cap from his pen with his mouth.
"Okay! Here we go." He started at at the inside of her elbow, as he always did, and worked his way towards her hand. He drew her favourite books, and wand movements of the spells she loved. Wingardium Leviosa always seemed to make an appearance. But tonight he drew around her scar. He drew a flowy silvery otter, her patronus and the protego charm right over the scar.
"To ward off the power that word seems to have over you." he blushed furiously as soon as he said it. "Bloody hell. That sounded cheesy."
"Not at all, Ron." she almost whispered. He ducked his head and continued to tattoo her arm until he reached her wrist.
"Ron."
"Yeah?" he didn't look up from her arm.
"I love you."
"I know."
She raised her eyebrows. He grinned. "I love you too, Hermione." he said it much more easily now than he had during the early years of their relationship.
He watched her with his head tilted, then went back to her hand. He was drawing on her palm now and reached her fingers. He paused for a moment before drawing a line around the base of one of her fingers. Her ring finger, she realised. He turned her hand over and completed the circle. She almost forgot to breathe. She was confused, but her heart seemed to realise that something monumental was happening.
"Ron?" she said tremulously. He said nothing, but took a deep breath and paused before he drew a diamond on top of the line. He stopped. Neither of them said anything for a while.
"Ron?" she whispered again.
He finally looked up at her. "Would you......maybe, someday?" he asked earnestly, his ears burning bright red.
"Oh, Ron." she didn't seem capable of saying anything beyond his name. Everything was quiet for a while until Ron chuckled nervously. The prolonged silence was making him more anxious.
"Wow, Hermione Granger is speechless." he exclaimed, without much mirth. "Look, I'm sorry. That was completely out of the blue, wasn't it? You don't have -" he was interrupted mid-sentence by Hermione's lips. She kissed him like she had kissed him the first time, full on the mouth and with everything she had.
When they parted, the words came easily.
"Oh Ron. Of course I would!"
Ron let out a breath. He seemed relieved now.
"Oh. Okay, good. Yeah, that's good." He laughed then. "I have an actual ring, you know."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I'd forgotten until just now! I bought it weeks ago!"
"Well, you can show it to me later." she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He gazed down at her. His hands crept into her hair and around her waist as he lowered his forehead to hers.
"Yeah. Later."
Hermione marvelled at how her heartbeat sped up every time he was close, even after all these years.
Her breath caught as he pressed his lips to hers, their noses smushed together. She pulled him closer still, her hands ghosting over his face, and then to his arms. He nipped her lower lip lightly and she parted them to let him in. She was now practically sitting in his lap as he clutched her tightly. They continued to kiss until they had to part for air.
"We have to get ready to go meet Harry and Gin for dinner at the Leaky soon." Ron said, panting.
"Uh-huh. Or maybe, we could tell them that they'd have to do without our delightful company this evening."
"Huh, I think I might prefer that idea, actually. After all, I do have some things to show you." he said with a grin.
She got off the couch and pulled him up with her.
"That's right. You do. Now, I believe we have some time before we have to owl them. Maybe you can show me a thing or two before then." she said as she dragged a beaming Ron to their bedroom.
Summary: "Would you...maybe, someday?" Ron is in a funny mood today.
Warnings: Mention of scars
Lazy sunday afternoons were Hermione's favourite. Ron and Hermione spent almost all of their Sunday afternoons in the cosy living room of their flat. On Saturday mornings, one or both of them would inevitably be called off to work and Hermione's mum insisted they have Saturday night dinners at her house. And Sundays, well, breakfast at the Burrow had been made mandatory a long time ago and dinner with the Harry and Ginny was their own little tradition. But on Sunday afternoons, Hermione would make sure they had no interruptions. Those times were all theirs, to languish as they pleased.
Sometimes they would utilise this time for other, ahem, activities. But for now, Hermione sat on the couch with a book in her lap, her legs thrown over Ron's. She didn't seem to be too interested in reading though as her brain was much more pre-occupied in other things, namely, gazing at Ron. She had been at it for a while now, and he hadn't even noticed. He seemed rather engrossed in his current project, and she was taking advantage of this rare, tranquil moment.
She watched as he made long confident strokes with a thick pen on a large sheet of parchment that he held balanced on their tangled limbs. Not many people knew this about Ron, even Harry hadn't realised during their Hogwarts years, that Ron could draw. He could draw really well.
She had first found out in third year, when for once, she had to borrow his notes on Cheering Charms. She had been taking too many classes and exhaustion was catching up to her. Her notes weren't as full and detailed as she was used to making and contrary to popular belief, Ron made decent notes when he wanted to. Besides, he had always tried extra hard in Charms after the Wingardium Leviosa fiasco in their first year. He had handed over the notes when she asked, without hesitation. Later that night, she found a sketch he had made on a scrap of parchment which was hidden between the notes. It was a remarkable likeness of Professor Flitwick, standing atop a stack of books. She was amazed, but when she talked to him, he blushed and changed the subject. She had let it go at the time. But ever since the war, he had spent a lot of his free time doodling and sketching. As a result, he had become quite the artist. She supposed it helped him cope in some way. He and Luna would often go on walks around town or in the woods, which they called their 'nature drawing trips'. They also loved visiting muggle art supply stores, with her and Harry's help of course. Ron was, quite frankly, hopeless when it came to muggle things. Luna hadn't fared much better in that department despite having received an O in Muggle Studies on her NEWTs.
She now watched as he poked out his tongue in concentration, slouched over his artwork. He seemed to suddenly sense her as he looked up from his illustration and smiled at her.
"Hi."
She smiled back.
"Hey. What are you drawing?"
"Not what. Who. I'm drawing you, my favourite subject." he said with a grin.
"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become so suave, Mr. Weasley?" she asked, matching his grin.
He tossed his drawing board on the coffee table that his feet rested on, and pulled Hermione even closer by her legs.
"It's only true." he said. "You're my favourite everything."
He took her left hand in his and pushed back the sleeve of her jumper, never once taking his eyes off hers. It was not that cold, but she still covered up her arms as much as possible. She loathed looking at that word etched on her arm. But she tried to push the thought away.
He smiled at her again, but his eyes seemed unusually intense. He seemed to be in a funny mood this afternoon.
"What are you doing?" she asked, although she knew full well what he intended to do.
"Can I draw on you?" he always asked first, to make sure she was okay with it. Ron knew how she felt about her scars, and as often as possible, he would try to make her see herself as he did. He loved drawing around it, she loved it when he did that. It would always make her feel better, at least for a while. It seemed to give him some sort of temporary catharsis too. They were healing bit by bit, together.
She nodded, and smiled warmly at him. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles and turned her hand over. He scooted closer to her and pulled off the cap from his pen with his mouth.
"Okay! Here we go." He started at at the inside of her elbow, as he always did, and worked his way towards her hand. He drew her favourite books, and wand movements of the spells she loved. Wingardium Leviosa always seemed to make an appearance. But tonight he drew around her scar. He drew a flowy silvery otter, her patronus and the protego charm right over the scar.
"To ward off the power that word seems to have over you." he blushed furiously as soon as he said it. "Bloody hell. That sounded cheesy."
"Not at all, Ron." she almost whispered. He ducked his head and continued to tattoo her arm until he reached her wrist.
"Ron."
"Yeah?" he didn't look up from her arm.
"I love you."
"I know."
She raised her eyebrows. He grinned. "I love you too, Hermione." he said it much more easily now than he had during the early years of their relationship.
He watched her with his head tilted, then went back to her hand. He was drawing on her palm now and reached her fingers. He paused for a moment before drawing a line around the base of one of her fingers. Her ring finger, she realised. He turned her hand over and completed the circle. She almost forgot to breathe. She was confused, but her heart seemed to realise that something monumental was happening.
"Ron?" she said tremulously. He said nothing, but took a deep breath and paused before he drew a diamond on top of the line. He stopped. Neither of them said anything for a while.
"Ron?" she whispered again.
He finally looked up at her. "Would you......maybe, someday?" he asked earnestly, his ears burning bright red.
"Oh, Ron." she didn't seem capable of saying anything beyond his name. Everything was quiet for a while until Ron chuckled nervously. The prolonged silence was making him more anxious.
"Wow, Hermione Granger is speechless." he exclaimed, without much mirth. "Look, I'm sorry. That was completely out of the blue, wasn't it? You don't have -" he was interrupted mid-sentence by Hermione's lips. She kissed him like she had kissed him the first time, full on the mouth and with everything she had.
When they parted, the words came easily.
"Oh Ron. Of course I would!"
Ron let out a breath. He seemed relieved now.
"Oh. Okay, good. Yeah, that's good." He laughed then. "I have an actual ring, you know."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I'd forgotten until just now! I bought it weeks ago!"
"Well, you can show it to me later." she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He gazed down at her. His hands crept into her hair and around her waist as he lowered his forehead to hers.
"Yeah. Later."
Hermione marvelled at how her heartbeat sped up every time he was close, even after all these years.
Her breath caught as he pressed his lips to hers, their noses smushed together. She pulled him closer still, her hands ghosting over his face, and then to his arms. He nipped her lower lip lightly and she parted them to let him in. She was now practically sitting in his lap as he clutched her tightly. They continued to kiss until they had to part for air.
"We have to get ready to go meet Harry and Gin for dinner at the Leaky soon." Ron said, panting.
"Uh-huh. Or maybe, we could tell them that they'd have to do without our delightful company this evening."
"Huh, I think I might prefer that idea, actually. After all, I do have some things to show you." he said with a grin.
She got off the couch and pulled him up with her.
"That's right. You do. Now, I believe we have some time before we have to owl them. Maybe you can show me a thing or two before then." she said as she dragged a beaming Ron to their bedroom.