Romione❤️ one-shots

Dumbledore died

Ron thumped sleepily down the boys' staircase again, just like he had every night for the past week. It was past midnight, but ever since Dumbledore's death he had been having trouble sleeping.

The first night after his death Ron thought it was just shock. However, he realized very quickly it was much more than that. His journey to the common room well after midnight had become a nightly routine. He was more than shocked. He was confused.

Every night he went up to bed with the rest of the sixth years, and every night he tried to fall asleep. But he just couldn't. As soon as he closed his eyes his mind was plagued with the image of Dumbledore strewn across the law, dead.

So every night Ron waited until everyone in his dorm fell asleep, and then he tip-toed down to the Common Room. His room was too confining. There wasn't enough space or privacy to think.

Ron often spent hours trying to sort out what happened. He wrestled with grief and anger. But the worst was the confusion. He didn't know how to deal with it. Dumbledore couldn't be gone. They still needed him. You-Know-Who—Voldemort—was still around. And great wizards like Dumbledore didn't simply die. They deserved some great feast, where they could go out with a bang. Leave the world on their own terms.

Snape had taken that from Dumbledore, Ron thought, disgust washing over him. Snape had taken everything. He still couldn't believe that it had happened. All along, Snape had been one of them.

Every so often Ron hoped that it had all been a scheme. He expected Dumbledore to jump out and tell them it had all been a hoax. Part of the master plan in order to throw off Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Ron knew this would never happen.

Coming back to reality, Ron pulled open the door leading into the Common Room. He stepped through, and immediately noticed something was different. It took him a moment to figure out what that something was. Sitting on the couch closest to the fire sat Hermione Granger. Apparently he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep tonight.

Hermione hadn't heard him step into the Common Room, he realized. She was reading a book (most likely dull, long, and about Arithmancy or House Elves) very intently. Ron was rooted in spot. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she sat there alone, oblivious to him standing there. Watching her was mesmerizing.

Ron studied as she turned the page, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes moving back and forth with fury. Her bushy hair was sticking up at awkward angles. She bit her bottom lip in concentration.

She was crazy. She couldn't sleep, so she chose to read. Ron laughed softly as he watched her curl her legs up underneath her, almost catlike. How could she be so insane and so perfect at the same time? When had she gotten so beautiful?

And then, just as Ron tried to answer his own questions, an idea struck him. He snuck deeper into the Common Room, making sure Hermione wouldn't be able to see him out of the corner of her eye. He creeped around the couch until he was directly behind her. He leaned his face right up to her ear and then said, rather loudly, "Up for a bit of late night reading?"

Her response was instantaneous. She yelped, flinging her arms in legs in the air. Her book went flying, and somehow she managed to fall off the couch, landing on the floor with a loud thunk.

"Ron!" she cried out, outraged. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. That was not funny!"

Ron saw the glare she was shooting him, but it had just been to damn funny. He stood there laughing as she rubbed her back and muttered something along the lines of "Stupid... immature."

Hermione picked herself off the floor, in what Ron supposed was her version of a dignified manner, and reseated herself on the couch. "When are you going to grow up?"