-- from �Taste of This� by Jann Arden

A light went out from one of the windows upstairs; it was the first indication I got that Ron and I had been out in the backyard for some time now. Time had seemed to stand perfectly still in the last while, and everything around us--the leftover decorations from the party, the lawn furniture that had yet to be put away, and remainders of the animal-shaped balloons that Fred and George had been brandishing earlier--had disappeared into the background.

All I had really been aware of in the last few minutes was, strangely enough, the faint scent of grass and soap as Ron held me underneath the great oak tree by the fence. He smelled of spring time: of open sky and promise, of new beginnings that made me as nervous as I was breathless with exhilaration. This was all new to me, all uncharted territory that I had neither anticipated nor planned, but had, in truth, hoped for every single day since I was fourteen. I could scarcely believe it still, even as I watched Ron�s hand languidly running up and down my arm, and felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against my cheek.

He had said he loved me. He had said it, and he had meant it.

After a while he moved his hand up to my chin, tilting it upwards so that our eyes met. His were crinkled in a smile, and looking at him, I couldn�t help but smile myself. His emotions were contagious that way.

�What are you thinking?� he said.

I shifted, turning over so that I was on my stomach and my arms were folded over his chest, and he adjusted his position as well, scooting down to gather me in a loose embrace, with his interlaced hands resting on the small of my back.

�You�ll think it�s silly.�

�Try me.�

I laughed. He really did look so eager. In a way, I guess I had ceased to be the Hermione he�d always known tonight, and in this new light, I became someone he wanted to get to know all over again. Someone whose thoughts were new and foreign, though they were the same ones they had always been.

�Well,� I said, �I was just thinking... I was thinking that it took us so long to get here...�

He was watching me intently all this time, as if taking in every detail of my face and engraving it in his memory. As if afraid, like I was, that all of this would vaporize in the morning, and we would each wake up in our own beds with the cold, jagged realization that none of it had ever happened.

�We wasted a lot of time, you and I,� I said softly. �Didn�t we?�

His knuckles brushed aside a lock that had grazed my jaw, and he was silent for such a long time that I wondered if I had said the wrong thing, or else brought it up at the wrong time. Had I ruined the moment irrevocably? Had I already grounded something before it could even have a chance to take flight? But then the hand that caressed my face moved behind my neck, and he pulled my face towards his, capturing my lips with certainty and no holding back, giving me his answer. An unequivocal answer.

�No, it wasn�t wasted,� he said, tracing the length of my nose with his finger. �I think... maybe it was all meant to bring us here to this moment.�

I�d found this out ages ago, something that I knew would probably surprise those who didn�t know him well, who didn�t know him the way Harry and I did. Ron Weasley really was brilliant. More so than everyone gave him credit for.

�We�re here now,� he murmured. �That�s all that matters, really, isn�t it? Life works itself out.�

That it did.

And suddenly, I just knew that I didn�t want to waste any more time. The realization took root inside me, blossoming and coming to life as I laid there with him. We had thrown away ten years already. I didn�t want to squander even ten more seconds.

�Ron," I said, "let�s go home.�

There was confusion in his eyes at first; my words were vague enough, I suppose, and if a stranger were to look upon the situation, he might say everything was happening too soon, too quickly. But then comprehension began to dawn in Ron�s eyes, and I knew then that he knew exactly what I meant. I also knew he knew, just as I did, that it was right. It just was. Without further words, he nodded, communicating his tacit consent, then vanished.

I followed him within seconds.

I was the first to apparate in his flat. I arrived in the hallway just outside his bedroom, though I had been aiming for the sitting room; somehow I must have misjudged by a little in my excitement and ended up here instead. I smiled to myself, thinking perhaps fate really was already trying to tell me something.

But he hadn�t shown up yet. I thought it odd, since he had left before I did, and yet here I was, and here he wasn�t. I was sure he was nowhere in the flat yet, because I heard no noises coming from anywhere close by, save for me going round from room to room, calling out for him. And as I did, I actually began to feel a slight panic rise up in me, in spite of myself. What if he had changed his mind? What if sensibility had got the better of him, and he�d decided this was all too quick, too much, too unplanned? And then I began to wonder myself what had come over me.

Me, sensible, rational, plan-everything-to-the-last-detail Hermione Granger, now standing alone in my best friend�s flat, waiting for him, abandoning anything that remotely resembled reason or caution. Wanting nothing more than to have him take me in his arms and begin our life together, just the way it was supposed to have been since fate had thrown our paths together when we were eleven years old, when we hadn�t even any inkling yet of how our lives would change from that one defining moment.

Only he wasn�t just my best friend anymore. He was so much more than that now. So much more that I couldn�t even put into words what this was between us now, because words like �love� and �forever� didn�t seem to be nearly all-encompassing enough, didn�t seem deep enough or broad enough or sweeping enough.

When a good fifteen minutes had passed, I became convinced he�d lost his nerve. And maybe he was right. Maybe sometime during this strange role reversal, reason had set in for him, and he�d remembered that I would be leaving in less than a week. That I would be in a whole other country, for God knows how long, and that we just both had bloody lousy timing.

But then I felt a pair of strong, warm hands clutch my waist and spin me around. I gasped, coming out of my fretful thoughts and coming face to face with him, catching only a glimpse of his smile before he took me into a kiss that melted away any worry I might have had, silly or justified. My hands traveled up his sides and hooked over his shoulders, and I gave myself into him, into us.

When the kiss ended, we were both breathless, flushed, and excited and nervous all at once.

�I was afraid you wouldn�t come,� I said.

He swept my temple with his fingers, before placing a delicate kiss on it.

�Not a chance.� I could feel the shape of the words, felt their imprint from his lips on my forehead. He eased off me a little to look back into my eyes. �Did you really think I�d change my mind?�

I smiled, then shrugged. Now that he was here, it felt so silly to have ever felt that way.

I noticed him staring again, just staring. Not in a way that made me feel exposed or uncomfortable, though--but rather in a way that made me feel worshipped. Loved. Adored. Cherished.

As if he couldn�t believe we were really here, that we were about to cross a threshold neither of us could have ever imagined crossing until now.

Then, softly, with a gentleness that took my breath away, he said, �Are you sure?�

I nodded.

�I mean, really sure,� he said again. �Are you sure you won�t have any regrets? You won�t-�

I placed a finger on his lips, felt the brush of his warm breath on my skin, making every cell in my body tingle.

�I�ve never been more sure of anything in my life...�

What he asked me next took me completely by surprise.

�Why?�

And in that moment, I saw all the pent-up insecurities in his eyes, the little boy who had questioned his worth for so long, the man who had stood by the sidelines when I was being a fool and had made myself believe the chance to become more than friends had long passed us by.

I wasn�t sure if I could give him the answer he wanted, that he deserved, but I did the best I could: I told him the truth.

�I know who I am, Ron,� I said. �And I know who you are. What I want to know is... who we are together...�

He understood me then, I know he did, because he took my hand, and led me down the hallway, and once we crossed the threshold of his room, he lifted me off the ground and carried me to his bed, laying me down gently, without ever taking his eyes off me.

He smiled, laughing softly, and I asked him what was going through his mind just now.

�I just can�t believe you�re here... in my bed...�

I laughed as well, leaning forward to brush my lips against his. �Well, it�s not the first time,� I said playfully.

He blushed; fancy that, I had made the famously cool Ron Weasley blush.

�No,� he said, �but this is for a very...� He closed his lips over the patch of skin just underneath my earlobe. �... very...� Lower, ever lower down the column of my neck. �... very different reason...�

His hands slid down my sides, coming to a stop at my waist, then he looked up at me. Was he silently asking for consent? I smiled, reassuring him, letting him know there was no reason to stop tonight. And then he pulled me towards him again for another kiss. It was the last lucid moment I remembered.

It was not his first time, and neither was it mine. But it all seemed so new and wondrous nevertheless, as if this was the way it was always meant to be, with someone you loved wholly and with no bounds. The way each of us had imagined it from the time we were old enough to see each other in a different light, even before we could think to articulate it.

We moved together in a flawless, fluid rhythm, as if we really were one body--one whole that had been split apart by God and was finally put back together again when the time was right and the stars had all been aligned. When completion came for both of us, we cried out together, our voices mingling in perfect harmony, threaded and woven together like fine, complex tapestry.

And I heard him murmur something just before his body went still above mine, something I had never heard before.

�Cariad...�

Neither of us had wanted to be the first to move; neither of us wanted to separate. I felt him hover above me, and when I opened my eyes, I saw him studying me intently, drinking in every detail of my face and body, just as I was doing with his at that moment. I wanted to remember that piece of silver moonlight streaked across his face; that lock of hair that curled up slightly and fell in his eyes; the way his breath felt on my face, enveloping me, stirring me, making me believe that nothing else existed outside of these four walls.

�Oh God, you�re beautiful,� he said in a choked whisper, his voice caressing me as his body had moments earlier.

The words drew tears from my eyes. They welled up in the corners, and Ron must have seen them because he leaned down and gently brushed his lips across my eyelashes, coming to rest his forehead against mine.

I couldn�t even speak. Imagine that, Hermione Granger, Hogwarts� own walking library, the girl who had always been the first to speak in class, and had been told on more than one occasion (by the man whose bed I happened to be sharing at the moment, no less) that she talked too much. Imagine that. I was at a loss for words. The only way I could think of telling him how I felt, of telling him what tonight meant to me--what he meant to me--was to show him. And so I reached up to let my fingers trace the line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble against my skin, and I kissed him. I kissed him with everything inside of me: all my promises and truths, and my darkness and light. Everything that I wanted to share with him, and even the things I had always fought to keep hidden from the rest of the world. But he would get to see them. He would get to see all of me.

After a while, as if deciding his weight would be too uncomfortable for me, he rolled over, pulling me along with him so that I could lay my head on his chest, our legs still tangled into each other�s.

Cariad...

The word danced in my ears as I closed my eyes and began to dream of him: of his gentle hands and powerful strokes and endless kisses. They were sweet dreams.

I remembered waking to him kissing the top of my head, his fingers absently twirling random strands of my hair. I lifted my head to look at him, rewarded with his brilliant smile when I did.

�Hi,� I murmured.

�Hi yourself...�

One hand traveled to the bottom of my chin, lifting it up so my mouth met his. This, I thought, was the only way to wake up.

�Were you watching me sleep?�

�Mm hmm,� he said. �I reckon I won�t be getting over the novelty of this anytime soon... seeing you lying here beside me...� He reached down to nibble on my earlobe. �Not wearing any clothes...�

I giggled and pushed him off playfully, swatting him on the arm.

�Just like a man,� I said, with mock indignation.

He arched an eyebrow at me, flashing that wicked grin of his that always put me at a disadvantage.

�Somehow I don�t think you minded that I was just like a man a little while ago...�

By now he was leaning over me, one arm bridged over my chest, and his torso half touching mine, my entire body tingling at our skin making contact. I brought my arm up to brush my fingers up and down his tricep.

�Ron...�

�Hmm?�

I couldn�t believe I was about to ask this question, but it had been in the back of my mind for a while now, and I knew if I ignored it further, it would only grow into an unfounded and irrational fear.

�Do you think... this was foolish of us?� I saw a momentary flash of pain in his eyes, and I hastened to explain what I meant. �Not this,� I said. �Not making love... I don�t regret that for a single second... I meant... starting this now, when I�m about to leave...�

I sighed and fell back on the pillow, suddenly feeling the weight of everything collapse on top of me.

�God, why couldn�t I just tell you sooner?� I said. �Why couldn�t I have-�

As I had done to him before, he placed a finger on my lips, and I waited for him to speak. To put my mind at ease.

�Shh... No regrets, remember?�

I nodded back. �No regrets.�

�Close your eyes for me, will you?�

I regarded him with curiosity, which amused him to no end.

�Please, Hermione,� he said. �For once, don�t fight me on something, okay?�

I laughed, and wanting to oblige him, I finally closed my eyes, my mind whirring at all the possibilities of what he might do to me once I was vulnerable.

I felt the bed shift with his movement, but instead of moving towards me, he seemed to have gotten up. Seconds later, I felt the bed shift again, and he placed a kiss on the tip of my nose, then said, �All right, you can open them now.�

I don�t think anything could have prepared me for what I saw when I obeyed his request.

He was smiling at me, propped up on one elbow, and holding up his free hand. Something caught my eye, and I realized there was something on his pinky: a small silver band. My eyes fluttered up to his, and I was sure he could read the question in them.

He readjusted his position, pulling the band off his finger and taking my hand, then sliding the band over my ring finger.

�I�ve had this for years,� he said. �I got it in our last week at Hogwarts... You remember that last trip to Hogsmeade, right?�

I nodded. �Ginny and I went into the bookstore because you and Harry were going to go to Zonko�s one last time...�

He grinned. �A little white lie,� he said. �I didn�t go to Zonko�s.�

Suddenly, it hit me what he was saying.

�Ron...�

�I had meant to give it to you as a present... But I chickened out at the last minute, because I wasn�t sure if you�d know what it meant--or worse, that you would, but wouldn�t want it to mean that...�

�That�s why you didn�t get here right away,� I said. �You had gone to get this...�

�Yeah,� he said. �It was in my room at the Burrow. I knew exactly where to find it.�

He looked down at my hand. He was still holding the tips of my fingers, watching the moonlight catch on the smooth surface of the ring.

�I know it�s not a proper engagement ring,� he said. �I mean, it�s just something an eighteen year old boy with hardly any money would buy, and then be too scared to give...�

I laughed, tilting his face up with my hand and said, �So it�s your fault, then... If you hadn�t chickened out, we might�ve saved ourselves years of-�

And then it hit me. I had been so caught up in his story that his words hadn�t registered properly in my brain.

Engagement ring.

My mouth fell open, and I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes at once.

�Ron, did you just...�

He smiled--a shy smile I hadn�t seen on him in a long, long while. And he nodded.

�I told you we�d sort this out,� he said. �D�you think Paris is ready for Ron Weasley?�

I laughed again, cupping his cheek with my hand. �The question is,� I said, �is Paris ready for Ron and Hermione Weasley?�

His eyes widened at my words.

�So you�re saying... are you...�

�Yes...� I kissed him, feeling his wonderment and awe in his kiss. �Of course the answer is yes...�

Then I heard him murmur it again, against my mouth.

�Cariad...�

�Cariad,� I echoed back, loving the sound of it as it rolled off my tongue.

�Mum�s mum was from Wales,� he said. �She taught me a few words when I was little, and that was one I never forgot.�

�What does it mean, Ron?�

�It means... beloved.�

Beloved.

He kissed me again, and we lost ourselves in each other. And it was only then that I truly understood what he had said to me earlier: Life works itself out.

Before we fell asleep, we whispered it one more time to each other.

�Cariad...�