Ron's Soliloquy. Ron's Soliloquy A/N: Wow. Almost ten years have gone by since I first posted this story, and I'm still getting reviews. Thank you so much. I want to make something clear, before I get yet another review telling me to "UPDATE! " this story. This story is not getting updated. It is a one-shot, a single chapter story. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry climb through the portrait hole and stop dead, staring from me to Hermione and back again. "Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you? " "Oh yeah? " "Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!
" With that, she turned and hurtled up the stairs to her dormitory, leaving me alone with Harry, who still looked slightly dumbfounded. Whatever Harry was thinking, he didn't say. "Oh, look, George, we've wandered into Ron's dreams. " The twins were sitting on the edge of my bed, laughing at me. "We've come to watch, little brother," laughed Fred. "Oh, really? "This would be, what? A Lover's Alibi. Hi, all! So, this is basically going to be (yet another) post-Battle, 19-year gap fic. At this point, I'm not planning to cover the entire 19-year period between the last chapter of DH and the epilogue, but we'll see what happens. :) Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
Also, to all the lovely readers of my Limes fic "Our Battles," please don't hate me! I've been thinking about writing this fic for a while now, and it just wouldn't leave me alone till I wrote it all out. This update will allow me to actually focus on Limes even more now, so this is a good thing, trust me. :) Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not in the least bit mine. Hermione gazed out over the dirt and rubble surrounding her as the early gray light of dawn began to descend on the Hogwarts grounds.
Looking over at Harry, she marveled at what he had accomplished; what he had sacrificed. Ron. This, above all, was what lifted Hermione's spirit. A few more minutes passed before any of them spoke. "Of course," Mrs. Crickets. It is early in the morning and the sun is low, its beams cutting through the underbrush beyond the Burrow at an angle no higher then the closest trees. The air is thick and promises a sweltering August day. He can feel it enveloping him, molding his suit closer around his body, tightening his cuffs. Then again, that might just be the anxiety. He stands in the middle of a small clearing, admiring the elder shrub, the one he used to plunder as a child.
Now it stands almost two men tall. He takes a few deep breaths, tries to concentrate on the chirping of crickets to block out the faint buzz of last minute preparations as a seemingly never-ending string of Weasleys bustles all over the Burrow's back garden no more than two hundred metres away. Or maybe three. The swish of fabric subtly joins the crickets' morning concert. "Fancy meeting you here, Mr Weasley," she says quietly. She drops the fabric, crosses her hands loosely behind her back, and steps right up to him, her feet in-between his. Blue Sky. Blue Sky Sun is shinin' in the sky There ain't a cloud in sight It's stopped rainin'; ev'rybody's in a play And don't you know-- It's a beautiful new day, hey, hey...
(Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why You had to hide away for so long?) --"Mr Blue Sky" by ELO Disclaimer: Not mine, yo. Summary: In which Ron and Hermione try to get some alone time in a broom cubpoard, Harry and Ginny have the exact same idea, and everyone begins to realize the war is finally over. I don't know how to categorize this piece. The day of Fred's funeral, it started to rain—and then, it never seemed to stop. Two solid weeks had passed since then, and yet it was like the world didn't know how to stop crying, as though it had forgotten how to smile, how to breathe.
Ron considered all this as he sat cross-legged on his bed, drinking his tea and staring up at the ceiling, the loss of Fred and George heavy as a Hippogriff sitting on his chest. "Ron? " "You help more than you know, Hermione," Ron said after a moment. "Mum! " Hardboiled. Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ] Hardboiled by RonsGirlFriday Track this Story: Favorite |Reading List |Currently Reading Other Similar Stories All stories remain the property of their authors and must not be copied in any form without their consent. [terms of service] [report abuse] [privacy policy] [site credits] Knowing. A/N: Thank you so very much to my lovely emmacmf for the beta... and also, just for being amazing. xx Also, just wanted to let everybody know, I am currently working on updating in-progress stories on here (Sharing Sleep's last chapter, With Me's next update, Stitches, etc).
These latest three stories were for a fest on LiveJournal and were completed some time ago. I'm just now able to post them here, after the Master List was revealed on LiveJournal. Prompt: #14, suggested by redheadsarehot"I said I was a virgin, not a monk. " - Outlander by Diana Gabaldon Knowing Nervous didn't quite describe how Ron felt. Scared shitless? He'd faced down things that he was sure most ordinary blokes his age didn't even know existed. Parts of his body moved of their own accord, bouncing feet and knees if he tried to sit down, trembling hands and shaky fingers through his hair if he tried to pace, and nonsense - utter bloody nonsense - if he dared to speak. Fuck. He was about to spend the night at Hermione's. To Kingdom Come. A/N: Another 19 year gap fic. I intend, at least at the moment, to cover all 19 years. This may take awhile. I should also explain that this is a Romione-centered fic.
It's not that I won't be included other characters and ships. Okay, ONWARD! Chapter One: Different Ron could not remember the last time he had heard Hogwarts so silent. The trio walked silently until they reached their destination. Ron turned back to Harry with a defeated expression; Harry motioned to his bed-the only empty one in the room. "Um…are these okay? " She was alive. Ron couldn't help the goofy grin that appeared on his face (not that he wanted to help it, if he was being perfectly honest). Ron turned onto his side and found Hermione already facing him. Hermione shrugged.
"But that's a good thing," Ron said slowly. "Oh, I know. Ron nodded. He couldn't help but realize that he was most certainly referring to more than just the aftermath of the war. "Hmm. Ron frowned at her hesitation. He nodded in agreement. "Ron-" Sleepless. Chapter OneFirst Year: 1991 Before Hermione Granger had come to Hogwarts, she had decided that she was a caterpillar. Caterpillars needed to blossom and grow so that they could become something entirely new. Something better. And when her Hogwarts letter had come along, Hermione had instantly recognized this situation for what it was. It was rejuvenation. But then she got her textbooks and everything changed. So Hermione devoured the textbooks, ate them up with a raw determination to prove herself.
There was nothing they could do about it. Of course, at first it wasn't that simple. It was late, probably midnight, when Ron came downstairs. He used this time to study her. That snort was all it took for Hermione to look curiously up from her reading. "What are you doing here? " She inwardly winced as soon as the words poured from her mouth. "I couldn't sleep. " For some strange reason, Hermione could feel herself begin to feel sorry for him. "I expect you had too much sugar before bed. " "Yeah. " Roll out the Red Carpet. This is the first new chaptered story that I'm posting, and it's sexually based. All the long fictions that I have on my page are sort of, well, they are on the heavier side and they're really serious with drama and whatnot. I reckon this "story" will be a good balance and show the happier and in some ways more carefree and and funner R/Hr.
We need that as much as the other stuff, and it'll also be a lot shorter, too. Now, I want to give a bit more explanation about what this series is. So, each chapter will have a different "act" but they all will a part of the same universe. So, sort of like a drabble or a collection of sorts. Also, some of the chapters will be from Hermione's pov and some will be from Ron's. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter Hermione smoothed her hair down before rubbing her hands together. Ron was on the other side, and she ignored the spike of joy and excitement. She swallowed the nerves and licked her lips.
She decided to look around the room instead. "See? " Coming to Term. Turned to Real Life. I hope you enjoy this! Disclaimer: Potter is not mine Black cloaks, black shoes, white tables, and white chairs. The arrangement made his palms itch. Everything was so bland and neutral, and the atmosphere was dark and muffled with crying. It was wrong. He wouldn't want it like this. He would hate how everyone was and how everything was arranged. "And his youngest brother, Ronald, would like to say a few words as well. " No, Fred would not want a funeral. "Ron. " "Huh? " "Ron, it's your turn," Hermione whispered in his ear. Ron swallowed hard. Ron finally looked at him. "F-Fred was, um, my brother. " Though he didn't look a whole lot like his brother, they shared the typical Weasley characteristics. He gazed at the front row.
However, any warmth he felt vanished when he looked at George. "Fred was important to all of us. Ron walked away from the podium and took his seat next to Hermione. It was everything Fred would hate. Ron didn't want to stay for sandwiches and juice. "Please. " She sighed. Faultlines.
Summary: Breaking up is hard to do, but Ron and Hermione are about to learn that trying to put the pieces back together is even harder. Author's notes: There will be some swearing from Chapter 3 onwards (Hurrah!) , hence rating. Not remotely DH-compliant ('cos that epilogue was rubbish) Hope you enjoy, and please review! By Pinky Brown Chapter One: The Letter I re-read Harry's letter for the umpteenth time, with shaking fingers.
"Hey Hermione, Friday night's fine with me, as long as you provide the paintbrushes and some beer! Love, Harry. " Ron is coming. I don't think I can bear to see him again. I did all my crying in those six weeks before I left. He said I cared more about my career than I did about him, I said he should be supporting me in what I wanted to do. By the time I finally left, I was just sick of the whole thing. Days passed, then weeks. I think we both knew that it was up to me to make the first move. I look around this flat and it just reminds me of everything I lost.