who Lavender and Ron
where the Library, then a hallway near the Library.
rating PG-13
status Complete

synopsis After a long night of studying, Lav and Ron walk back to Tower, but have a bit of a squabble first. DO THEY KISS AND MAKE UP? Yes, yes they do.

Lavender was sitting at a table near the back of the library, her eyes glazing over as she tried to comprehend the words in the large open text in front of her. It was twenty minutes until the library closed, and she knew she just had to push through and finish this chapter, but it was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. She was leaning her head on one hand, concentrating more on the way the letters were swimming on front of her eyes than on what words they actually made up, which was never a good sign. She knew it was time to get serious about studying for NEWTs, but it was difficult. She wasn't the type to be studious, to focus on her schoolwork when there were so many more interesting things she could be doing. Sighing, she reached up and brushed her fringe from her face, wishing for some tea, or coffee to wake herself up. Ron had been sitting next to her for hours, it seemed like. He'd been pretty productive for most of the evening, he thought, even though they were in the library and Ron had never felt as comfortable there as some people. Still, for all that he joked, he did care about doing well on his NEWTs, so studying was important. He had to know his stuff, and he had a lot of classes. Of course, he'd been in a bit of a mood since dinner, when he and Hermione hadn't just not talked, they'd specifically Not Been Talking again, and he really would've been happy to put the books away an hour ago. He had already distracted Lav from her studies once. But they'd been there since dinner, and by now, Ron was fried. He rolled up his parchment and closed his textbooks and looked over at her for a moment before rubbing his eyes. "Are you done yet? I'm knackered." She looked up, her eyes a bit bleary, as she focused on him for the first time in what seemed like ages. She had chosen to study in the library because she had an exam coming up in Care of Magical Creatures, and while she trusted Ron to stay true to his word about not distracting her from her studies, she thought it best for her work ethic to be somewhere that distractions would be severely punished. She managed a weak smile, and nodded, reaching over to squeeze his hand gently. "Can't read anymore. Fucking exhausted," she said softly, closing her book and picking up her sack, starting to file away her texts and parchment, along with the half-eaten sugar quill she had given up on an hour ago. "Yeah. Let's get out of here," Ron said, shoving all of his stuff into his bookbag, looping it over his shoulder. He hesitated a moment, because he didn't know if it was weird or not, but she had said she was exhausted and Ron thought it would probably fall under the 'thoughtful' category, so he reached out and picked up her bookbag, looping it over the same shoulder. That way he still had one side free so he could take her hand, which he did as soon as they began heading for the door to the hallway. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. It was getting too long because he hadn't cut it in months--years maybe--but it didn't really bother him except in the moments that it felt greasy or tangled or slobby. He pushed the door open for her and followed her out into the hall, and as soon as they were out of the stifling quiet of the library he managed, "Fuck, I can't wait for school to be done." Her mouth quirked into a smile of appreciation when he took her bag, thinking it was a sweet gesture when he was as tired as she was. She slipped her hand into his and tangled their fingers together, feeling as she always did that rush of happiness that came from touching him, that sureness that told her he was the right person for her to take hold of. It made her feel a bit sappy, but she was okay with that. She didn't care if people thought they were sickening -- their relationship wasn't anyone else's business. She looked over at him as the library door closed, thinking he had excellent timing on keeping the curse in until they were officially in the hallway. "I know what you mean," she agreed, thinking that school being over with not only meant the start of her real life, but also the beginning of her real relationship with him, unfettered by the past, their schoolmates, or the rules set in place by this institution. Grinning, she reached up with her free hand and pushed his hair back from his forehead. "When was the last time you tended to this, Shaggy?" Ron managed a bit of a smile, amused that she seemed to be thinking the same things he was. It seemed fitting that they were on the same wavelength, though, considering how much time they spent together now. They really were well-suited to each other, and despite how complicated things had gotten with Hermione because of it, and because of every single thing that had happened after, Ron didn't regret it one bit. He was sure that he loved Lavender. Just because he was pissed and grumpy about other stuff in his life that felt like it had gotten way out of control, that didn't change. She'd asked him something, though, and he pulled his mind from his thoughts enough to shrug a bit in response to her question and say, "Dunno. A while ago. Why?" "Just asking. You're getting a bit long around the... everywhere. I can trim it, if you like. I did Ginny's a few weeks ago, she didn't look half bad," she offered, studying his hair for how she could best cut it. "Now that you don't look well fit now, but in a week or so you're going to be catching up to me," she teased, grinning up at him. The halls were quiet at this time of night, since most of the students had an earlier curfew, and those who chose to study in the library made up a small portion of the NEWT level classes. She liked it when the castle was like this -- it was peaceful. He considered it for a moment and then just said, "It's not that long." It was just hair, after all, and Ron didn't really think it mattered if it was long or short. Besides, if he let it grow a bit more, he could put it in a ponytail like Bill. "Does it really matter?" he asked then, and it was likely just because of his lingering bad mood that he wasn't smiling in response. He figured she didn't mean anything by it, and it was just hair, after all. He wasn't annoyed with her, just a bit annoyed in general. It had been a long day, and though he enjoyed spending time with her, she wasn't a cure all. Being with her didn't mean his homework was any less frustrating or his friendship with Hermione was any less fucked up. "Of course it matters, I'm the one shagging you, after all," she said with a laugh, not noticing that he didn't seem to be as amused about it as she was. Hair may not be the most important thing in the world, but to Lavender, it was still something that shouldn't be ignored. People judged you based off what you looked like, and frankly, as much as she loved Bill, she thought his ponytail was a little silly. "Oi, s'bad enough I'm probably going to end up havin' yer ginger babies," she said, exaggerating her Devonshire accent for effect. "It's just hair, Lav," Ron started, and then her last statement hit his ears with the force of a fog horn and he blanched. Evidently it wasn't just hair. Apparently it was hair and babies. Ron frowned. What did that even mean? She considered it a bad thing that if they had kids and they ended up redheaded? Ron hadn't really even thought about kids yet, but if things kept moving the way they were, it was going to happen eventually, and what did it matter what colour hair they had? Everyone in Ron's family had red hair, and now she was saying she didn't like it? And what, that it mattered because they were shagging and one day going to have kids? They weren't even out of their teens yet, and she was talking about kids like that, Merlin. Ron wasn't afraid of their future together. Far from it, in fact, as he thought about it quite a bit. He hadn't yet started planning out their children or choosing their hair colour yet. Ron frowned and said sourly, "I can't do anything about the ginger. Sorry." She stopped at the combative tone in his voice, taken completely aback. She had only been kidding, and his reaction seemed to have come completely out of nowhere. Her brow furrowed, she let go of his hand so that she could face him fully and try to figure out what the hell was going on that would make him respond like that. "Ron, I'm kidding. Obviously I don't care that you're ginger, I've liked you long enough. I was just taking the piss." If he'd really thought about it, Ron supposed he probably knew she was kidding. It wasn't her fault he was being a grouch, but somehow that just made him feel worse. He shouldn't known, and he hadn't realized it until he'd already offended her. Ron looked away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His tone wasn't confrontational, but it wasn't quite apologetic either as he mumbled, "Yeah, well. I'm not cutting my hair just because we're shagging. And you're getting a bit ahead of things, aren't you? I mean. Babies." She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrow shooting up almost into her hairline. She didn't know what was wrong with him, and if she could have been rational at that moment she would have realized that it was probably something else going on, but for then she was just angered. "Ahead of things? Ron, we're moving in together in a few month's time. If you can't handle a joke about something that could reasonably be in our future -- our distant future -- then I don't know how you're going to live with me every day." There was a pang of self-consciousness then as Ron wondered if that was somehow a veiled statement about how she wasn't going to be able to live with him. Maybe normally he would've squelched it, but now he just shifted uncomfortably and said, "You reached that end pretty fast. Been waiting for a chance?" She looked utterly confused, and the flash of hurt that flickered across her face was difficult to conceal. Lavender always said what she was thinking, and that translated to being almost completely guileless. "I don't know when you're going to learn to stop looking for faults in everything I say to you, Ron, but you'll have to let me know. I trust you with everything; why can't you just trust that I love you?" she said, then turned on her heel and began to walk away from him, apparently forgetting, or not caring, that he still had all her books. All she knew was that she needed to put some distance between them if this was how he was going to act. Ron watched her go for a moment, blinking as he processed what had just happened. But his mind replayed that little moment of hurt he'd seen, and even if Ron wasn't good with reading people, he'd seen that loud and clear. It twisted his stomach and he swallowed hard before hoisting the bags higher on his shoulder and jogging after her. "Lav, wait," he called softly, catching up and reaching out gently to touch her arm. He was the picture of contrition, and it was genuine. He hated the thought that he'd hurt her, and for no reason but, what, pride and misunderstandings? He wasn't about to let that ruin another relationship in his life. "Hey, hang on. I... I'm sorry. I do trust you. I just. I'm a prat. And I fuck things up, I know. Don't let me fuck us up. Please." Her mind was a turmoil of anger and confusion as she walked away, fortunately still too frustrated to have given into wanting to cry. She figured that would come later, after she was done fuming. She was about to round the corner when she heard him come up behind her and call out, stopping when his hand touched her elbow. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him, seeing immediately that he at least look genuinely apologetic. She exhaled slowly, trying to think of what she could say. "I don't know why you have to take everything I say so seriously, Ron. I just... I don't want to hurt you but I feel like you worry so much that you.... you look for the worst in everything. I love you, but it drives me crazy that you can't seem to believe I really do after everything that's happened between us." For a long moment, Ron wanted to just make a joke, to brush it off, but that wasn't fair and Lavender was right, and this mattered too much to Ron for him to blow her off. He looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts and trying to weed out the stupid ones, and then looked back up at her, expression clearly uncomfortable. Ron hated making himself vulnerable to others, even though he trusted Lavender to accept him despite his weaknesses. He did. He took a deep breath and worked out a way to explain. "I'm sorry. I am. And I do trust you. It's just..." Ron trailed off for a moment. "Both my best friends have told me this year they want nothing to do with me. And I trusted them too, you know? It's. It's hard for me... But I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you." He hadn't told Lavender exactly what Hermione had said. When they were just arguing, he'd relayed a lot of that to her, but once Hermione had said that they couldn't be friends anymore, Ron had clammed up and kept it to himself. It had shaken him, but he thought it wasn't quite fair to expect Lavender to be sympathetic towards him when clearly Hermione thought he was in the wrong. Ron hadn't thought he was, but maybe she was right, and Ron hadn't wanted to tell Lav everything she'd said and risk hearing that Lavender sided with Hermione. Besides, if his best friends since he was eleven didn't even want anything to do with him, how could Lavender? It was where a lot of Ron's doubt was coming from. She dropped her arms, taking in what he said. She knew how much his fights with his friends hurt him, though it seemed to her that some combination of the three were always fighting about something. She didn't really understand it, perhaps because she and Parvati didn't clash enough to fight like the trio did -- it probably had something to do with them all being stubborn gits, but she wasn't going to say that aloud. "Ron, I'm going to fight with you. I'm going to get angry, I'm going to tease you, and then you'll get angry at me, but I am never going to leave you. I want everything to do with you, even if you are an infuriating ginger." "Never?" Ron asked softly, setting down the two bookbags weighing down his shoulder and reaching out for her tentatively, unsure if he was yet allowed to or if she was still mad. He rested his hands gently on her hips and pulled her slowly towards him. His eyes were wide as he watched her. Never leaving him meant he'd have her for a long time. He swallowed and ducked his head a bit, not quite kissing her but he hovered a few inches away, waiting for permission. He couldn't help his next words, even though Ron knew enough to know that joking right now was dangerous. He took his chances and just tried not to smile as he breathed, voice affectionate, "Bugger. What if I get sick of you?" She watched as he set the bags down and didn't protest as he reached out for her, letting him compel her forward. She was just beginning to thaw, just about to let him kiss her, when he made his joke, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, even if a smile was playing at the corners of her lips. "Well, that's your problem, isn't it?" she asked, shaking her head. Reaching up with one hand, she whacked him in the bicep with an open hand, then leaned up to press her lips against his. The kiss went on for a good long minute, until she muttered "wanker," against his mouth. "Not as often anymore," he replied, smiling even as he broke the kiss to speak and then resumed it just as quick again. He liked that she cared enough about him to get mad when he was daft and then forgive him for it anyway, all in just a few minutes. She whacked him again, lighter this time, and didn't break the kiss for it. Sometimes Ron was intensely frustrating, but he was still the person she wanted to be with, and she knew he was trying. She could take a few squabbles if it meant they could make up, and hopefully have made things a little better from them. Reaching a hand up, she buried it in his thick hair and tugged gently, finally breaking back from him with a smile. "You do realize you're still cutting this, right?" Ron laughed then and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight as he let their foreheads rest against each other. She drove him bats sometimes, but he couldn't imagine things any different from how they were. It hadn't even really been about the hair. Ron didn't care about his hair, and so he conceded with an easy, lighthearted, "You can do whatever you want to my hair, Lav. Strange that I trust you so much even though you abuse me. I'll have bruises, just you wait." "I thought you wanted to experiment," she teased, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder, her hug chaste despite her lascivious words. She really did love the great git, even if sometimes she thought he needed to have a bit of sense knocked into him. And if his hair was getting shaggy. Though he turned a bit pink, he still answered saying, "I take it back. From now on, we keep the lights off and no funny business. You will lie back and think of England." He kissed her then to show her he was just kidding, and nipped at her bottom lip again just to make extra sure she knew he didn't mean it. He pulled away a bit, his nose bumping hers and a smile on his face as he looked down at her. "So we're okay then?" he asked. "I assume this means we're okay." "Kind of hard to be Victorian about it when we're in a closet, but okay," she said, accepting his kiss with a grin. Playfully, she swatted him on the arse, then finally released him and twitched her head in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. "Of course we're okay. How could I stay mad at my favourite ginger?" "Charmer, you," Ron said, rolling his eyes. He bent and picked up their bags, moving into step next to her and taking her hand again as they began to walk. There was one last thing that was bothering him, though, even if things were fixed. One thing that he'd said that hadn't been addressed yet that he needed to touch on, and he blushed before he even opened his mouth. Smiling sheepishly at her, he cleared his throat then stammered, "And, uh, for the record... I do want to have babies with you. Ginger or otherwise. Lots of them. Just... not for a few years, yeah?" She squeezed his hand, quickening her pace to keep up with his lanky steps. Looking up when he cleared his throat, she noticed his blush before he spoke and raised an eyebrow, wondering what would come next. At his admission, she felt herself grow warm with happiness, and honestly wondered if it was possible any other girl had ever had a boyfriend as cute as hers. "Slow down there, Red. I have to learn how to make dinner before I start making babies," she said, and squeezed his hand again to show that she was kidding. "And I hope they're ginger."