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Author: lantis222 Story: Something Worth Fighting For Rating: Young Teens Setting: Post-DH Status: WIP Reviews: 16 Words: 39,956
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all the mothers out there. Thank you for all you do for us. The world is a better place because we have mothers in all forms whether they are biological or otherwise. So thank you from the bottom of my heart. The night was dark and gloomy. Clouds, heavy with rain danced threateningly through the sky blocking out the stars and moon. The only light to be found came from the street lamps. They glowed orange and artificial in the darkness. Across the sky white lightning flashed followed closely by endless peels of thunder. The air was heavy with electrified anticipation. Wind blew without mercy, occasionally blowing scraps of paper and discarded wrappers down the deserted London street. Not a soul could be found out of doors on a night like this, save one. He wandered the streets aimlessly. His heart was as heavy as the clouds overhead. Tears leaked from his blue eyes yet he paid them no mind as he continued to wander the empty streets. The storm unleashed its full fury and his lips curled into a small smile. It was a bitter smile devoid of any humor and it spoke of lost love and sorrow. The rain fell hard and heavy and the wind became gale-like in its intensity. It pushed and pulled the lone figure while the rain mixed with the tears on his pale face. He was soaked and dirty yet he seemed not to care as he continued to walk heedless of the storm. The wind slammed into him with a scream of fury. He stumbled and fell. He tried to stand yet he was unable to as the wind beat him mercilessly. He crawled along the sidewalk until he reached an old weather beaten streetlamp. He clutched it while he shook and shivered in the rain unaware of the passage of time. The only thing he knew was an aching in his chest that threatened to consume him. He felt despair and anguish, for what was life without her? Suddenly he looked up. His blue eyes were blazing with the intense fire of a decision finally reached. He stood; the orange glow from the street lamp illuminated his flaming red hair causing him to resemble a phoenix rising skyward in flame. The illusion lasted only moments before the streetlamp sputtered and died leaving him cold, alone, and friendless. His shoulders drooped with defeat and shook with racking sobs. After what seemed an eternity he looked around as if he had only just realized a storm raged around him. He shook his sodden fringe from his eyes. He looked up the street and then down before turning on the spot and disappearing with a soft pop leaving the street deserted in the raging storm. *** Molly Weasley sat in her favourite rocking chair in front of the fire place. Outside the rain lashed viciously against the windows. Her knitting needles flashed in front of her as a maroon jumper was slowly taking shape. Beside her on the sofa her husband Arthur dozed snoring every so often while the wireless softly played Celestina Warbeck's Greatest Hits. She sighed with contentment; all in all life was treating her rather well. All of her children were grown and married, almost all that is. Her youngest son was a successful Auror, probably one of the best seen- along with his friend Harry- in a long time. He had everything a person could wish for, except love. Oh sure, he had a girlfriend and she was a nice enough girl. But Molly knew that it would never last. She liked Lavender and she supposed Ronald could do worse, but she knew Ron was settling for something because he thought he could do no better. Still, Ronald was serious about her and there would be another wedding to plan. Molly loved weddings and if Ron was happy so was she. The knitting needles came to a halt for it was time to reposition them to do the arm holes. She now had such a large family that it took her almost the entire year to complete the many Christmas jumpers that her ever growing family required. The needles began clicking again as she sat back in her chair and began rocking. There was a loud crack followed by a deafening crash from the direction of her kitchen. Arthur woke with a start but Molly was already half way there before he could as much as stand. "What was that?" he asked her. "I don't know dear, I was about to find out" Molly answered him as she continued into the kitchen. She was not prepared for the sight that met her eyes. Several pots and pans were scattered about the floor. Flour was everywhere and the bread dough that had been rising on the side of the sink was now a lump that stuck to the opposite wall. Eggs were scattered and cracked everywhere and in the middle of the room in a heap on the floor her youngest son was soaked and sobbing as water ran in rivulets from his dripping clothes. "Ron!" Molly cried as she ran to her son. "What happened?" She reached him and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She held him as he sobbed into her chest. He tried to speak but his voice choked and he was unable to get any coherent words out. Molly patted his back and smoothed his sodden hair. She whispered nonsense into his ear while she held him in her loving embrace. Arthur came into the kitchen and gasped when he saw his wife and son. He started to ask but Molly shook her head. He nodded once and went back into the other room quite content to wait. After a while Ron's breathing became less harsh and his sobs quieted. He still clung to his mother as if his life would end, but he was calming. Molly suddenly realised that she had been sobbing along with her son and she hastily wiped her eyes lest he see. He was going to need her strong when he finally opened up and told her what had caused him to lose his carefully constructed control. Her son was strong and it was unlike him to cry even in the worst of times. The last time she had seem him cry was years ago when Albus Dumbledore had die. But, it had not been like this. Tears had fallen as he held Hermione to him while they comforted each other but he had not really cried like his heart had been ripped from his chest. He had even gone through all the funerals and memorials after the war had ended in stoic silence marked with very few tears. Even after Hermione had left and he woke without her he had not cried. He raged and bellowed and threw tantrums worth of a five-year-old but he had not cried. And then she realised what was troubling her son. She was willing to bet The Burrow that Ron's emotional state had something to do with Hermione Granger. Privately, she thought it was about time. Maybe now he could heal. One way or another she knew this was a good thing for him. Though as she watched him suffer her heart went out to him. A few moments later Ron's breathing became regular and even and she knew that he had fallen asleep against her. Molly's heart was full to bursting with love for her son and although he was heavy she reveled in giving a mothers comfort. She held him to her for a while longer before calling softly to Arthur so that he could help her. They carried him to the sofa in the den. When he was resting comfortably, Molly removed his shoes and socks. She then cast a Drying Charm and dried the clothes he was wearing as best she could. She had Arthur get her a blanket and cast a Warming Charm on it before covering her son. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair and watched it curl around her fingers for a moment. Then she leaned over and tenderly kissed him. With a wave of her wand the lights in the room dimmed and she silently left the room. Molly walked into the kitchen and surveyed the mess that had been made. Arthur came to her and handed her a cup of strong tea. She accepted it gratefully and took a sip. She closed her eyes and allowed its warmth to flood her. "Do you know what's wrong with him?" Arthur asked her quietly. "I have a few suspicions," Molly replied. "But, I expect we'll find out for certain in the morning." "Yes, I expect we will," Arthur said. Molly looked down at her wet and wrinkled house robes and sighed. "I need to get changed," she said. "Then I'll straighten this mess out." "Go on, Mollywobbles," Arthur said playfully. "I'll get the kitchen straightened out, don't you worry." Molly beamed at him. "I never do when you're with me." She reached up and kissed her husband tenderly. "I do love you," she said when they parted. "I love you back," Arthur said. Molly's smile was dazzling as she made her way out of the room. Arthur grinned happily and hummed softly to himself as he waved his wand and began to right the kitchen. In the other room, Ron turned over on the couch. He buried himself further into the blanket and slept on. His dreams were peaceful and filled with the many wonders of his childhood. A smile appeared on his lips as he dreamt of his mothers loving arms. By the next morning there was no trace of the violent storm. Birds sang their cheerful greeting to the morning, while water dripped melodically from the leaves of trees. All around life could be heard emerging from the storm enshrouded night. In the rickety house known as The Burrow, Molly and Arthur Weasley were dressed and enjoying the new day with all its possibilities. Ron slept still, oblivious to the noise around him as his mother baked fresh bread for the evening meal. He stirred slightly as she began to sing one of her favorite songs while kneading the bread dough. The sound was wonderful to his ears and for the first time in days he felt warm and comfortable upon waking. He opened his eyes slowly but quickly realised this was a mistake. His head felt like it was split open and bleeding profusely while he tried to remember exactly why a thousand Hippogriffs were stampeding through his head. He searched his memory, he remembered going to work the day before and feeling miserable. He remembered going to Hogwarts and talking to Neville and…Hermione. Something important happened with Hermione. He saw her by the lake; she saw him and she ran away. He'd gone to The Three Broomsticks where he'd had a little to drink. He had to be honest with himself; he'd had a lot to drink. After that his memory was patchy. He remembered a castle. What was that castle? Hogwarts, he'd gone to Hogwarts, but why? And then he remembered. He remembered kissing her and fighting with her. His lips burned with warmth at the memory of hers against them. Suddenly his drink induced fog left him and he remembered everything. He sat up with a groan. He put his aching head in his hands and relived the sadness and the hurt of choosing another. He was confused and felt that his life was spinning out of his control. His head still agreed with him, Hermione had her chance, but his heart begged him to reconsider. After all her reasons had been honorable… But why had she run when she knew he was awake? They could be together now. He would have listened to her, he was sure of it. But he would not have understood, not then anyway. The logical part of himself knew this but the truth was a bitter pill to swallow. These thoughts made him more miserable and made his head ache all the more. He stood up and left the sofa in search of his mother and a hangover cure. He found her sitting in the kitchen humming to herself. Several loaves of bread sat rising on the counter and the knitting needles Ron had been so fond of growing up were flashing before her. She smiled warmly at him. "Good morning, dear," she said as she rose from her chair to embrace her son, "how are you feeling today? Better?" "Not really," Ron muttered. "I feel like a herd of Centaurs are running through my head." "I bet you do. Here," she helped him sit in a chair, "let me make you something for that head of yours." She began to bustle around the kitchen. Minutes later she approached the table and put a steaming mug before him. "Here son, this will help." "Thanks Mum," Ron said as he slowly brought the mug to his lips. With the first sip, the pounding in his head lessened and after a few more it diminished completely. His mother looked at him with a knowing grin on her face. "Better?" she asked him. "Yeah," he said with a sigh of relief. "Thanks." She sat down at the table across from her son and took one of his large hands into her smaller one. She seemed to study his hand for a moment before speaking. "You know," she said in a soft voice, "when you were born you were so tiny. You came a month earlier than we expected and we were worried that you wouldn't survive." She looked up and smiled at him. "You've always been a fighter. Whatever happened to you last night, I know you will overcome it." "Thanks," murmured Ron "I needed to hear that." "Do you want to tell me about it?" "Not really." He sighed at the look his mother was giving him, "I found out a couple of days ago that someone is back in town. Someone I thought I'd never see again, but she's back. I don't know how I feel about it." "Would this someone have bushy brown hair?" Molly asked lightly. "Yeah, it would." Ron looked at his mother with a hurt expression on his face. "I saw her yesterday." "You did?" Molly asked. "How is she?" "She's fine I guess," Ron replied. "I dunno, I didn't really ask." "Why not?" "I didn't get around to it," Ron said with a hitch in his voice. "We er, kinda had a row." "Really?" Molly asked, "why?" "Well, I wasn't thinking all that clearly," Ron said while his ears turned pink. "You mean you were drunk?" Molly asked directly. "Well, yeah," Ron said ashamedly. Molly smiled grimly. "What did Hermione do?" she asked. "She… she slapped me," Ron said. "What ever for?" Molly asked curiously. Ron's ears went from pink to red. It took all of Molly's self control not to laugh outright at her son's discomfort. "I may have kissed her in my," he cleared his throat, "inebriated state." "Oh dear," Molly said with laughter in her voice. "You're lucky she didn't hex you into next week." "I wish she had," Ron said sadly and all traces of humour vanished. "I deserved it and it might have been easier." "Oh, Ron," she said as she reached out and gave his hand a motherly squeeze, "why don't you tell me what happened." Ron took a deep breath and began to tell his mother everything that had happened to him over the past couple of days. He told her about the letter from Neville and all about his botched marriage proposal to Lavender. He told her about Kingsley giving him the rest of the week off and about going to Hogwarts to talk to Neville. When he told her about seeing Hermione by the lake he could see the beginnings of tears glisten in the corner of her eyes. But when he told her about going to see Hermione she lost control and the tears were flowing freely. By the end she was quietly sobbing. "Oh Ronald," was all she could say. After a few moments she collected herself and pulled her son close to her. She held him for quite a while before releasing him and giving him a stern look. "It's not too late to fix this," she said in her famous mother-knows-best voice. "Yes it is," Ron said sadly. When Molly made to interrupt him he held up his hands to quiet her. "Don't you understand?" he asked her. "I made my decision last night. Hermione and I… we had our chance, and it was wonderful while it lasted, but the point is its over. We are over. Lavender is my life now. She's my future, not Hermione." "Ronald," his mother said sternly, "is this what you really want?" "Yes," he said defiantly. Then his shoulders slumped and he seemed to deflate. "No…I don't know. I just don't understand why she didn't stay with me. I mean, I know her reasons," he trailed off. When he spoke again it was barely more than a whisper. "It's just that it hurts so much." Molly put a hand on Ron's arm and gave it a warm squeeze. "Did you ever stop to see it from her perspective?" "I…well, no," Ron said quietly. "Don't you think that she might be hurting as well?" Molly asked. "She…" Ron began, but Molly pushed on. "I want you to hear me out on this. It may help to have a woman's perspective." Ron nodded and when Molly was satisfied that he would not interrupt she continued. "I remember when Hermione left in search of a cure for you. You had been in a coma for three years at that point. That girl is, if nothing else, diligent and she had been searching for two and a half years with no success. "Leaving you was the hardest thing she has ever had to do. It tore her apart to know that you might resent her if she couldn't save you. "When she finally did come back the first thing she hears is you saying you never wanted to see her again. How do you think she felt knowing that her worst fears were realised? "When she was ready to confront you and tell you everything no matter what your reaction might be you had moved on and you were happy. Your happiness was all she ever cared about and she didn't want to do anything to jeopardise it." Ron didn't move. His head was hung low and a slight flush was creeping up his neck. His ears were red with shame. Molly nodded in a satisfied way. "Now you're beginning to understand," she stated. "Do you finally see things from her point of view?" "Yes," he said. "I've been a real prat, haven't I?" "Yes son, but I understand, and someday so will she," she said comfortingly. "No she won't, and even if she does, I don't deserve her." "Of course you do," Molly said wisely. "You know you've made mistakes but now you can get past that. You can begin to heal and so can she. I think you need to apologise to her." "Yeah, I know I do," Ron said though he was terrified of the thought. "That's lovely dear," Molly said. "And once you have, you will both be able to move on with life. Who knows, maybe you will even get to be together again." Ron stared at his mother with wide eyes. She had to be joking. He had ruined any chance he might have had with Hermione. He only hoped that she could forgive him enough to be his friend. It was the best he could hope for. He shook his head. "Mum," he began. "Hermione and I…" he ran a hand through his hair, "we had our chance. Fate or whatever you want to call it has conspired against us. We can't be together. We just…can't." "What do you mean?" Molly asked horrified of what his response would be. "I have to go see Lavender," Ron stated. "Like I said before, she's my life now and I have to go make things right with her." "Son, I…" Molly began. Ron stood from the table. He bent and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thanks for being there for me last night. I really needed it," he said sadly. "I'm always here for you Ronald," she responded. "You know that." "I love you, Mum," he said before turning on the spot and disappearing. Despite the sadness his choice had caused her, she glowed. Ron hadn't told her he loved her in a few years. She also knew better than Ron. His heart belonged to Hermione. It might take him a while to fully comprehend the scope of his feelings but Molly was almost positive that Hermione would be her daughter-in-law with in a year. She picked up her wand and pointed it at the oven. She was humming again by the time she put the risen bread dough inside it. An hour later found Ron pacing up and down the corridor in front of Lavender's flat. He was nervous and his hands were shaking. Yet he still had no idea what he was going to say to her. She was sure to be furious at him for leaving her so abruptly the other night. He would just have to make it up to her. He brought his wand out of his pocket and twirled it around in a complicated pattern. "Orchideous," he mumbled. A dozen perfect daisies sprang from the end of his wand. He swore under his breath, he had been trying for roses. He tried again. He formed the perfect picture of roses complete with vase and baby's breath in his mind. He closed his eyes so that he would not be distracted and muttered the incantation again. He opened his eyes and looked down at the flowers he had conjured. Four perfect red roses peaked out from a sea of daisies. Ron growled in frustration. Why in the world was he conjuring daisies? He had been able to do this spell perfectly for years now. It had taken him a few days to learn but when he did, Hermione had been so happy. He had learned this spell as a Valentines Day present for Hermione. They were out hunting Horcruxes and he had been unable to buy her anything. He knew that she loved Valentines Day and he had been trying to make the day special for her. She had so much to worry about, what with Harry brooding over the Deathly Hallows and trying to figure out the many exhausted possibilities of Horcrux locations. She was frazzled. He had only wanted to help but no matter how hard he tried he'd been unable to produce anything other than a flimsy and dilapidated daisy. He had been terrified that she would hate it but she didn't hate it, as a matter of fact, she had loved it. Ron had been so happy he had been able to conjure a perfect bouquet of daisies from that moment forward. Now it seemed he was unable to conjure anything else. He looked down at his pathetic excuse for roses and banished them. He shook his head, he was a Weasley and Weasley's did not quit. He would just have to try harder. He screwed up his face in concentration; he could feel the magic growing inside. He thought the incantation and felt something spring from the end of his wand. He knew, he just knew that roses would be waiting when he opened his eyes. He waited just a moment longer before he cracked his eyelid just a fraction. He saw a sea of white. He opened his eyes fully and sat staring in numb disbelief. Before him mountains upon mountains of daisy pedals littered the corridor. They were in his hair and on his robes. They were in the light fixtures and they rained down from the cracks in the ceiling. As he looked on he saw to his astonishment amid the pure white a touch of green and yellow. He stood mesmerized by the sight and waded slowly toward it. He was there, he bent and scooped the green and yellow into his large hand and was surprised to see a single dilapidated daisy. Its petals were withered and its leaves drooped it reminded Ron of the first time he had produced a similar daisy. He stared at the pathetic thing and then he knew, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt where he needed to be. There was only one woman he had ever truly loved. She made him crazy and hot-headed and sometimes he just wanted to wring her neck. Yet she completed him. She was the other half of him. She challenged him and made him want to be a better person. He knew his heart would always belong to her. They were connected in way he could not even begin to understand. Hermione's face swam before his minds eye and he could feel his pulse quicken. Everything that had happened between the two of them no longer mattered. It was all in the past and before him shinning like a beacon was a bright and glorious future. He stared down at the daisy again and smiled, his first real smile in five years. He knew he had messed up, but Hermione was his everything and she was worth fighting for. He put the daisy carefully in his breast pocket. He patted it affectionately before he raised his wand and banished the sea of petals before him. He pocketed his wand and moved to stand before Lavenders door. He had never meant to hurt her. Someday she would understand that. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. It was nearly two minutes before he heard her moving around inside. She answered the door still dressed in a house coat and slippers. "Hi Lav," he said quietly. "Hello Ronald," she said icily. Ron knew he was in trouble but it no longer mattered. "May I come in?" he asked. "We really need to talk." Lavender nodded and she stepped away to allow him into her flat. Two hours later Ron found himself walking down the streets of Hogsmeade Village. His mind was full of a half-formed plane while he carried his rucksack on his back. It was the same pack that he had brought with him on the Horcurx hunt and he was happy to have it with him now. Inside he carried some toiletries, several days' worth of clothing, and a squished chocolate frog care wrapped in a pink hair ribbon. The latter two he carried as a talisman for they were given to him by Hermione on the same Valentines Day he had produced his wilted daisy. They were most precious possessions and when he held them he could almost feel Hermione's presence. He hoped they would bring him luck, after all, he was going to need it. Memories of the past brought him to the gates of Hogwarts. The winged boars looked down at him with the same stony expression they always wore. At least some things never changed and he was comforted slightly by the thought. He went through the gates and within moments found himself at the great oak doors that led into the castle. He opened them and made his way to Minerva McGonagall's office. They had so much to discuss and only some of it had to do with security arrangements. He stood outside the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's (or in this case Headmistresses) office. Not knowing the password he stared at the gargoyle for a moment before speaking. "Er," he said, "I don't know the password but I really need to talk to her. Is she in?" The gargoyle continued to stare blankly at the opposite wall. "Right," he said, "let's try this again. If she's in there will you tell her that Ron Weasley is here to see her about the new security arrangements and…" Someone coughed behind him. He spun around to see one other than Minerva McGonagall standing there. "Mr. Weasley," she said severely, "is there a reason that you are conversing with a statue?" I, er," he stammered. He felt like a child who had been caught out-of-bounds until he noticed the corners of her mouth twitch and he felt more at ease. "I was trying to find you," he said. "I need to discuss some things with you." "Very well," she said as she waved her hand. The gargoyle sprang aside revealing the moving circular staircase. As he passed he thought he saw the gargoyle turn its ugly head in his direction and smirk at him. Ron smirked back while very Fred-and –George type thoughts ran through his head of exactly what he wanted to do to that gargoyle. The meeting went much smoother than he had anticipated. McGonagall was only too happy to help him much to his utmost relief. He would be living at Hogwarts until the "security issues" were taken care of. Ron however became suspicious when McGonagall refused to tell him exactly what the supposed threat to the students and staff was. He was beginning to suspect that there was more going on that he had been told. He did not mind however, because whatever wheels were in motion suited his needs therefore he was willing to go where ever they would take him, just as long as they took him closer to Hermione. His rooms were next to Hermione's and she would have to pass them anytime she wanted to go to or from her own. Not only did this allow him to keep tabs on her comings and goings but he hoped it would keep him fresh on her mind, knowing that only a wall separated them. He sighed, the plan was a two edged sword for it also meant that he would spend several sleepless nights staring at the offending wall. Still, it was worth it if he got what he wanted in the end. The next phase of his plan was to see just how much damage had been done the previous night. He wondered if she would be angry with him or if she would even talk to him at all. He deposited his rucksack I his rooms and after removing the wilted daisy, for it was to be his peace offering to her, he left his room and stood before Hermione's door. The mullioned windows showed the cheerful late summer grounds and Ron hoped they would be a sign of things to come. His hand trembled as he took the precious daisy from his pocket and hit it behind his back. He hesitated slightly before he raised his hand and knocked on her door. "Go away Neville!" she exclaimed from behind the closed door. "How many times to I have to tell you? I don't want to talk about it!" "Er- it's not Neville," he said through the door. There was a hasty scrambling from inside her room before the door was opened and a disheveled Hermione stood there bathed in a halo of firelight. Ron's jaw dropped; though her nose was red and her eyes were puffy, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She crossed her arms and glared at him for a moment before turning on her heal and attempting to slam the door in his face. Ron threw out his hand and caught it just in time. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. Ron was dumbfounded. Whatever reaction he had been expecting, this certainly was not it. He found himself utterly unprepared for the look of cold fury and, was it hatred, reflected in her beautiful brown eyes. He took a step backward away from her icy stare. He swallowed hard before speaking. "I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he said hesitantly. "There is nothing left to talk about," she said coldly. "You said it all last night." "I think you're wrong," Ron said. "There is a lot we need to talk about." "I have nothing to say to you Ronald," Hermione said sadly. "You heard my story and you made your decision. I hope you're happy with it." "I will be," Ron stated exasperatedly, "when you get over yourself and let me explain things to you." "There's nothing left to explain. I know you're engaged. Personally if I were you're fiancée, I would be mortified that you're even here talking to me. It's time for you to go now Ron." She jabbed her finger into his chest and began pushing him further out into the corridor. "Go back to Lavender. I wish you two well." She made to close the door but Ron stopped her once again. "Why are you acting like this?" he asked confusedly. "Why am I acting like this?" she shrieked. "Why do you think? You know, I didn't come back here for you. Contrary to what you may believe I did not come back to ruin your life and I did not deserve to be treated the way you treated me last night." "I'm…" Ron attempted to speak before she cut him off. "Just go, Ron," she said in a defeated voice. "I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much and I'm tired. You go on with your life and let me go on with mine. Please." Ron flinched at her angry and defeated demeanor. He had never meant to hurt her, not like this, but he stood his ground. If he was to earn her respect and eventually her love he had to show her that he was not willing to back down. "Hermione," he said, "I'm afraid you're stuck with me. There's been a security threat that we believe may be centered on you." He said this in his best authoritative- auror's voice. He was stretching the truth a bit but he was at a loss for the reason to stay near her at all times. This gave him the perfect opportunity. He held his ad higher and looked straight into her eyes. "So guess who your body guard is going to be," he finished firmly. Her mouth was open slightly in shock and she simply stared at him. When he was sure she was not going to start shouting at him again he continued in a softer voice. "I came to tell you that. And I came to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything and I hope that someday, we can be friends again." Hermione continued to stare at him with wide eyes as tears slid softly down her cheeks. He longed to brush them away but knew that it was still too soon for such intimate behavior. Instead he withdrew from behind his back the daisy. He held it out to her and she took it with trembling fingers. They brushed his and he could feel where she touched him burn. He shook himself knowing that it was still too soon no matter how much he wished it could be otherwise. "I'm next door if you need me," he said softly. She nodded and closed the door quietly. Ron sighed as he made his way down the corridor and out into the sun-lit grounds. He found a secluded spot by the lake and sat down staring out over the water while the sun slowly made its way to the horizon. These next few months were going to be long but he was content for the moment. And that made all the difference.
Secondly, I have to thank Potterholic85 for allowing me to use your story. Dilapidated Daisys is one of the cutest little bit of fluff I've read and I loved the idea. I had to change it around a bit to fit with cannon but the idea is still the same. If you guys haven't checked the story out already go and do it. You'll love it. Lastly, I want to thank all of my readers and especially my reviewers. I would have given up long ago if it wasn't for your kind words and encouragement. Thank you all for everything!
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