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It was not normal to fancy the girl that tried to give your best mate away to the Dark Lord.
It was certainly not normal to fancy the girl who used to hang out with one of your bullies.
And it was certainly very much not normal to fancy the girl you were just supposed to be protecting, not wanting to snog.
This was where Ron Weasley found himself, having been assigned as the Auror in charge of guarding one Pansy Parkinson. She had been put in witness protection ever since the start of the post-war trials, where her testifying against her family and their associates had put many Death Eaters and other pureblood supremacists behind bars. She had been confined to her family’s estate, as a result, and he was tasked with making sure no harm would come her way. That was how they were thus forced into proximity.
In the beginning, of course, he loathed every second of it and he wondered why his best mate had even recommended him to such a task. For Pansy, it was much the same story. In fact, she would make it a point to stay confined to her room for most of each day, trying not to interact with him as much as humanly possible.
But slowly, over time, he saw… the other side of her. He would hear her cry herself to sleep when she thought he was asleep; how she would try to hide her red-rimmed eyes with charms the next morning; the way she would stare off into the distance, forgetting he was even there, as she held her tears at bay and her eyes so openly displayed her fear. The threat of those she was helping lock away coming for her life was a heavy weight on her.
And in those moments, he saw the girl that really lay beneath, the girl drowning in regret for what she had done and tried to do, the girl that was every bit someone he did not recognise, someone he was learning a lot about, and he… rather liked that. Those thoughts he once had of her as “pug-faced” seemed rather mental to him now when she looked so pretty in her delicacy. Suddenly, protecting her didn’t feel like a task anymore, it felt like… an instinct.
She, too, saw the man she never knew, too busy loathing him for reasons she didn’t care about anymore. The way he started worrying for her, would notice her trying to hold it together and would offer to talk about it. Some days, he seemed wanting to hold her, even, comfort her. She always refused it, of course. The little pride she still had stopped any opportunity of solace in him. But it was hard. He gave her a warmth that she never experienced before with anyone, not even her closest peers; certainly not the way that pureblood society had raised them all to be. Emotionally distant and reserved, that was to be their nature. But he didn’t belong to that world, he was different. And only once that realisation truly hit, did she begin to feel a little flutter in her heart.
She now looked forward to seeing him. No longer just confined to her room, she was actively spending time with him. Of course, in that time, she didn't talk to him much, mostly just pretended to read. Despite her newfound feelings, her pesky pride would not be caught admitting to such wistfulness. The fact was, he was really only her protector and she would not allow herself to believe that, after the trials, he would ever seriously give her the time of day. He had a caring nature, it didn’t mean anything. She was being silly. These feelings would go away… but, oh, she hoped they wouldn’t.
For Ron Weasley, it was much the same. He knew that, after this was all said and done, she wasn't obligated to ever interact with him again and he very much doubted she would even want to. But he hoped, still hoped anyway, foolishly, he knew. He didn't admit to those feelings and he didn’t have to. They would go away…
He would find someone else. It didn't quite work out with Hermione, but there were always other witches out there. …
She would find someone else. It didn't quite work out with Draco, but there were always other wizards out there. …
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Ron finishes sending the message to his family, letting them know he won’t be spending Christmas at home. But… he’s okay with that. He feels guilty about it, but he knows he’s needed here. And… who knows, in this cheery atmosphere, something might…
He looks out the window at the blanket of snow covering the gardens tonight. The evening is chilly, but their day together has been pleasantly warm. In the afternoon, they dwelled in the sitting room, her, a book in hand, and him, some Quidditch magazines. However, he felt a strange tension in the air today, as they sat on opposite ends of the sofa, closer than ever before. That tension seemed to linger throughout dinner, as she appeared to hurry with her meal, before announcing that she would be going to bed earlier than usual.
He stands there, pondering her behaviour…
“WEASLEY!”
He flies upstairs before she even finishes shouting his name. He bursts into her room to find her already comfortably tucked in, his eyes scanning the area every which way in a rush of adrenaline.
“What’s wrong?!”
He looks back at her after a moment of silence, as she hesitates, biting her lip, her cheeks flushed.
Finally, she mutters something under her breath.
“Sorry?”
“Could you come lie next to me?!”
His whole body freezes on the spot, his mouth slightly agape, his cheeks surely matching hers in colour.
“P-Pardon?”
She huffs, pulling the covers to her chest, despite the decency of her nightgown, as she repeats her plea,
“Could you come lie next to me? I’m… uneasy and I could use a… comforting presence tonight.”
His mind spins a million different directions, each second darkening both of their complexions further. Would that truly be okay given their arrangement?
But then she very quietly says the word that he has never heard come out of her lips before,
“Please…”
And he knows he’ll oblige her. Slow yet determined steps take him in just a few strides towards her bed, and he very gently pulls back the covers and lies next to her. When he does, she eases back onto the mattress and mouths a simple “thank you”, before turning away from him, and he does the same.
Time stretches on for an uncomfortable length before they both turn towards each other at the same time, their faces mere inches apart, the closest they’ve ever been so far. He falls deep into her dark eyes and she dives in his blue gaze. And the deeper they go, the closer all those complicated feelings come to the surface.
And when they do finally emerge, they seize that chance and damn the consequences.
“I think I’m falling for you!” they blurt out as one.
Eyes wide and faces red, they try to hide immediately after admitting it. She buries her face in her pillow and he covers his with his enormous hand. After a while, they’re able to face each other again.
And they just start laughing like maniacs. It’s the first time he gets to hear her laugh instead of a sneer, and he finds the sound of it absolutely beautiful. For her, it’s the first time she gets to hear him laugh with her rather than at her.
When they both quiet down their bout of mirth, she’s the first to break the silence,
“We're really just a couple of idiots, aren’t we?”
“Yep.”
And they laugh a bit more, until their gazes hold firm and they slowly grow silent once more. As both of them shoot quick glances at the other’s lips, the universe does its magic and draws them together. They meet each other halfway in a gentle, yet passionate kiss that lingers just long enough to properly convey all the pent-up emotions that bloomed over the past many months. After they break their kiss, Pansy snuggles up to him, lying her head on his chest and feeling his rapid heartbeat just as hers lull her to sleep.
“Good night, Ron…”
He smiles and envelops her in his arms, drawing her in even closer.
“Good night, Pansy…”
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Come morning, he wakes up before her. And he looks down at her sleeping peacefully for the first time since this whole ordeal. A gorgeous smile adorns her face, as he caresses her raven-dark locks. He kisses her head and tells her,
“Happy Christmas, Pansy…”