Twelve Kisses

Deathly Hallows: The Make Up Kiss

He had left them that stormy night. He had walked out of the tent fuming, the locket ruling his emotions like a puppeteer ruled over his marionette.

She had chased after him calling his name, begging for him not to leave them. Not to leave her.

He wanted her to come with him. He thought that she would. He figured that she cared enough about him to come with him. He would have done the same if it was the other way around. But she had refused, and his anger caused him to leave.

For weeks he was gone. Hermione would cry herself to sleep almost every night, while Harry would secretly wish for his best friend's return.

Then suddenly, he was there. Harry had woken Hermione up and she had popped out of the tent to see Ron's face.

She wanted to hug, kiss, and kill him all at the same time. She had listened to his story about him being kidnapped and how he escaped to Shell Cottage and how the deluminator had led him back to them. To her.

And while inside she felt like it was the single most romantic most sweetest story she had ever heard in her entire life, she was still angry with him.

She hadn't talked to him unless absolutely necessary. She didn't even look his way if she could help it. It was too much. She wasn't ready to forgive him.

Ron felt horrible about what was going on, but he knew he deserved it. He had abandoned his best friends. While they were out there almost getting killed, he was regaining his strength back at his brother's home.

He felt ashamed, but at the same time, he felt absolutely wonderful to be back amongst them, no matter how much Hermione refused to speak to him.

They had just set up camp again after that horrible visit with Xenophilius Lovegood, the man almost handing them over to the Death Eaters thinking that they would give Luna back to him.

The Erumpent horn had blown up and destroyed the Lovegood home with the trio barely escaping. Who knew what would have happened had they stuck around. They all could have died or been captured.

Ron had finally had enough of being iced out. He asked Harry if he wouldn't mind taking his watch for the night. He and Hermione were going to sit and talk this out, whether she liked it or not.

Hermione was sitting on her camp bed reading The Beedle and the Bard once again, trying to piece together the Deathly Hallows story, and if it was of any significance to the hunt. Ron came into her little makeshift room, zipping up the privacy curtain she had put up as a door.

Hermione glanced up at Ron and then back down at her book, pretending to read. She had a feeling that him and her were about to do a great deal of shouting.

Ron stood and glared at Hermione, who continued to pretend he wasn't there.

"Really Mione? You are going to act as if I'm not standing here?" asked Ron annoyed.

Hermione continued to pretend to be engrossed in her book. Ron promptly snatched the book out of her hand and threw it onto the floor.

"Ron!" snapped Hermione.

"Don't 'Ron' me Hermione! I'm tired of you not talking to me! We are going to get to the bottom of this!"

"I'd rather not." said Hermione glaring at him. "You may not want to hear what I have to say."

"On the contrary, I would love to hear what you want to yell at me about. So go on, get to it." said Ron, purposely antagonizing her. As much as he didn't like doing it, he knew that it was the only way he would get anything out of her.