It hurts when you're gone (Ron Weasley Fanfic)

Chapter 8-Sweet Nothing

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and I were in the same compartment of the Hogwarts Express; that was leading us back home. I honestly didn't want to go back- the last few months had been a whirlwind of beautiful memories. Of Ginny singing a crude version of the Sorting Hat's song, but abusing Slytherin all the way.

('And the fourth house is Slytherin

These insufferable idiots ought to be put in the bin

Here you can get away doing sin upon sin

All you have to do is treat Snape to a gin')

Of Hermione bashing me with 'A History Of Magic' when she realized me and Ron were passing notes across the bench.

('Y/N! Pay attention or I won't lend you my notes!' The threat went to deaf ears, Ron had just written- Let's put some Cockroach Cluster in Crabbe's dinner).

Of Harry trying to imitate Filch's look of bemusement and anger when Peeves blew a raspberry on his face.

Of Ron, when he didn't realize that the quill I'd gifted him blew up in your face when you wrote a wrong spelling.

('Bloody hell! Blimey!! The damn quill burst when I wrote 'gergarious' instead of 'gregarious'! Y/N what is this?' Hermione and I sniggered behind Ron's back).

But the Express itself gave me another beautiful memory to cherish, later in the evening, as we were about to reach London.

'Y/N, can I have a word with you?' Ron said, looking at me sheepishly.

'Go on Y/N, Professor Weasley wants to have 'a word with you' Ginny said, laughing as I passed her.

'What happened, Ron?' I said, as I stepped out of the compartment and firmly closed the door.

'It's just..umm..do you have an owl?'

'Yeah, not me, but my dad owns one- Flick, it's called.'

'This is where I live. Just write to me, ok?'

I looked at him and grinned. 'Duh, Ron..Do you think I won't write to you? I know where you live- The Burrow, right?'

He looked at me questioningly.

'Oh, I asked Hermione. She told me..' It was my turn to blush.

He smiled and I noticed how his face just lit up and his eyes twinkled.

'There's something an owl couldn't get you, Y/N' he said.

'Whatever is that Ron?'

He didn't answer.

He suddenly stepped closer. I could smell his hair and count the number of freckles on his cheek.

He kissed me on the cheek and quickly stumbled into the compartment.

I must have blushed furiously. I have no clue how he mustered the courage to do it because he always stuck me as a shy yet caring specimen.

Dazed, I slightly rubbed the part of my cheek where he'd kissed me.

Oh the sweet nothings of a teenage witch. I was just overhwelmed with happiness that night.