#DRUDE BAIT

[devoid-of-love]

CAT.FLP - DRUDE BAIT

on CHTHONIAN ANGEL

[ballerinaroy]

insecurities

A/N: Hi friends! This week has been a whirlwind as I’ve officially started a new dream job. I don’t know what my posting schuele is going to look like as I adjust to being a professional again, but in the meantime enjoy this lil’ snippet from something longer I’m working on. 

Summary: As Ron and Hermione plot out their first time, druding up some of Ron’s deep-seated insecurities.  

Ron is still convinced every time he gets Hermione alone that someone will burst in on them. By some miracle it hasn’t happened yet. But, it’s got him hyper alert to the point that he worries that if the times comes, when the time comes, that he won’t be at full attention.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, her bottom lip pouting as she pulled away from him.

“Nothing,” Ron assured her quickly, diving back in to her neck.

“Ron,” She protested. “Tell me, am I doing something wrong?”

“What?” he asked, “No, of course not.”

“It’s just,” she sighed, pushing herself up so she was sitting up against his headboard. “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like you’re into it.”

“I’m worried we’re going to get walked in on.” He burst out. “I know we haven’t, but-” 

“Oh,” Hermione said, looking serious. She bit her lip, one finger tracing his jaw. “Then we should get a hotel.”

Ron felt his eyes pop out of his head and his voice sounded rather strained. “We should?”

With an expression he’d always associated with Hermione breaking the rules and being excited about it, she bit her lip and nodded.

“We can’t get a hotel.”

“And why not?” she pouted. “Oh, come-on, we’re adults-“

“You tell that to mum-“

“-And I think it could be romantic, just the two of us.”

“Oh, is romance what you’re after here?”

“Think about it,” Hermione said, shaking his arm. “Our first time should be special. And that way I wouldn’t have to sneak out after, we could really spend the night together.”

“First time?” he asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“I haven’t,” she said and he bit his cheek, shame rushing through him. “No, Ron, I just meant our, first time.”

He didn’t say anything still, but his silence answered the question.

“Oh,” she whispered, feeling suddenly very exposed and crossed her arms to cover her bra.

At last Ron sat up too, passing her his shirt and they sat, arms flush, without looking at one another. He wasn’t sure what to say, where to begin. He should have known it would come up eventually, only he wasn’t quite sure how to talk about shagging his ex-girlfriend who was dead.

Bracing himself he asked, “So, what do you-“ just as Hermione asked, “When did you-“

They both stopped, meeting each other’s eyes and gave strained grins.

“Er, it happened right before the holiday,” Ron said, twisting his hands together in his lap. “We’d been doing stuff, I mean about a month in she gave me a-“

“I don’t want details,” Hermione told him quickly.

“Right,” he said, his face feeling even hotter. “Sorry, er, like I said, right before the holiday. Which, you know, wasn’t the best plan. I mean, it wasn’t a good plan at all. I felt weird after. She kept saying it would bring us closer together, and everyone thought we were anyway, which isn’t a good reason, so the night of Slughorn’s party-“

He felt the air leave Hermione’s lungs and he dare not look at her.

“Anyway, we did it, and then a few times after that and well…”

Thick silence descended upon them once more. He was too afraid to look at her, afraid to see the expression on her face.

“Does this change things?”

“What?” Hermione asked, “No, of course not.”

At last it felt safe to look at her and found her expression completely and utterly confusing.

“I just didn’t know,” Hermione said, “I mean, I suspected, but I didn’t know.”

Relief coursed through his body. “Is there anything else you want to-“

“No,” Hermione said firmly, shaking her head. “There’s not.”

Yet she didn’t seem inclined to share her mind for as they sat there, her look became even harder to read.

“Hermione?” he braved, reaching for her hand.

“Sorry,” she blinked, “I was just sitting here thinking how horrible we were to one another.”

“You think I’m horrible?” he asked, half joking.

“No, I think you’re wonderful,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. It felt safe at last to put his arm around her, their fingers laced. “It’s just in school, all the things we said to one another, the things we did.”

She frowned down at a scar on his arm. It was hard for him to distinguish now where the plethora of thin white lines had originated yet he had no doubt she knew exactly where the one she kissed had come from.

“Why do you think that was?” Ron asked, though he had his own theories. “The horribleness.”

“Well, at first I think you just thought I was a know-it-all.”

“You are a know it all,” he clarified, kissing the top of her head even as she made a noise of dissent. “And then you got pretty and started getting other boys attention.”

Hermione let out a hollow laugh. “Pretty? And I hardly think Krum constitutes as other boys.”

“Right, famous international quidditch players, that makes it better.” Ron clarified, just to get a rise out of her.

“Anyway,” Hermione said tensely, not taking his bait. “And then sometimes it was that we couldn’t agree on what was best for Harry.”

“And then there was by own self doubt,” Ron said.

Hermione looked at him, surprised, but didn’t interrupt.

“It never felt like I was enough,” Ron said, speaking for the first time the thoughts that had kept him up at night. “Growing up I had all these amazing brothers, and then I met Harry, and you were incredible at school so I never stood a chance. I was never the best at anything.”

“I had no idea,” Hermione whispered and she looked horrified. Instantly it felt that he’d gone too far and he tried to adopt a joking tone.

“Oh, come on Hermione, we all know your marks are better than mine.”

“Ron,” she protested, letting go of his hand and sitting up so he had to look at her. “I had no idea you felt that way.”

He struggled against another quip and suddenly felt rather queasy.

“Of course you’re the best at things.” Hermione insisted. “You’re a good chess player-“

“Just because I have lousy opponents-“

“And you’re a good friend, the best friend in fact, I mean Harry’s fine, but he’s pretty lousy at being there when I need someone but you-“

“It’s alright, Hermione,” he assured her.

“No, Ron, you’re the bravest person I know,” she said, and he was stunned to find tears in her eyes. “Ron, you saved me. You saved my life. When I fell unconscious in that ball room, I thought that was it. I thought I had died and then you were there, shifting through shards of crystal and candle wax. You could have left me there, but you didn’t. You saved me.”

“Anyone could have-“

“But it was you.” She whispered and he suddenly he was aware of every heart beat, every breath and he gripped her arms to keep himself steady. “Ron you are the most amazing person I have ever met. And it hurts to hear you talk like that because it’s not how I see you, it’s not how anyone sees you.”

“I love you Ron,” she whispered, and a sudden smile spread across her lips.

“Funny,” he attempted.

“Stop it,” she commanded, even as her smile grew and a nervous giggle escaped her. “Oh, God I swear I’m not…I’ve been trying to figure out for days how to tell you and…God I feel…Ron I love you.”

And he believed her. From the hurried tone of voice, to the worry in her eyes, right down to the giddy smile on her face.

“That’s good,” he told her. “I mean, I love you too. Of course I do.”

And he did. Without a doubt he knew that he loved her. His heart felt light and full at the same time and there was nothing left to do but kiss her. Long and hard and doing so he tried to pour back into her a fraction of the love she had just given him.

Never before had he spoken about the deep insecurities that had crippled him. Always too afraid that they’d be dismissed or mocked. He should have known that Hermione would counter with a well thought out argument. He loved her. God, he loved her.

“So,” he said, breaking off suddenly, “About that hotel.”