The fire crackled lightly as a sleep-deprived Head Girl watched its flames dance and cast a comforting glow on the otherwise dark Common Room. Her mind was swimming with thoughts of her male counterpart who happened to be sleeping only feet away in an adjacent room. The two had been best mates since first year, following a rather obscure incident with a troll and boogies, but her thoughts were not focused on those early years where innocence was the only word to describe them.
No, she was being consumed from the inside by her desire to do certain actions a good Head Girl should not be even contemplating doing.
She could hear his rather obnoxious snores from her seat on the couch, and a small smile played across her lips as she wondered if he was dreaming wonderful dreams. The possibility that he might even be dreaming of her teased her for a moment, but she pushed that tantalizing thought away as impossible.
Her mind slipped to thoughts of the previous night, during which they had attended the Winter Ball together as Head Boy and Girl were required to do. She had felt like a princess as she appeared in baby blue Cinderella dress and saw the look of awe upon her “date’s” face. She had spent so long taming her wild brown locks like she had for the Yule Ball in fourth year and even longer doing her makeup just right, not too much so that she looked trampy but not too subtle that she looked like she did everyday. Her date, appreciative of the consideration she had made in choosing the color of her dress so as not to clash with his classic red hair, looked equally dashing in his dress robes and matching blue flower on his robe’s collar. The two had walked slightly on eggshells for the first few moments before slipping into their friendly routine: she mothering him about the slight speck of dirt constantly present on his nose, and he swatting away the hand poised to wipe away said intrusion. She chuckled softly as she thought of the horrendous first dance where they had trampled over each other’s toes for the entire four minutes. Some things never change…
Just as her eyelids began to grow heavy, finally giving her a chance to get some well-deserved sleep, the infamous snorer appeared in the doorway of his room.
“Hermione? What are you doing up this late?” His voice, groggy from just waking up, croaked.
“Oh nothing, Ron, I just couldn’t sleep.” Which wasn’t technically a lie; it just wasn’t the whole truth.
“ ‘Mione, really, you need to go to bed. You look like you haven’t slept in days.” A comment he had intended as a mere observation but in his every charming style managed to turn into an insult.
“Honestly, Ronald, you never cease to amaze me with your gallantry…” Hermione replied sarcastically, obviously not pleased with his remark.
“Er…sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant to say is that whatever it is that is bothering you is not worth losing sleep over. Tell me what’s up.” As he apologized, he sat down next to her on the couch and gave her a quick hug.
“So tell Doctor Weasley what has got your wand in a knot.”
Hermione laughed, slightly amused at the thought of Ron as a psychiatrist.
But deciding that talking it out could possibly be her only mode of getting sleep, she resigned to telling him her problem.
“Well you see, sir, there’s this guy that I’ve liked for a really long time, but the problem is he never really notices me.” An unnoticed spark of anger flashed in Ron’s eyes. “I mean we’ve been friends for so long that I think he may just take my interest as just another sign of friendly affection. He constantly is joking around, flirting with other girls right in front of me, and it kills! But I can’t help but smile when he’s around, even if he riles me up like no other." She sighed. "…Boys are stupid.” She finished in the most mature of fashions, crossing her arms across her chest and pouting.
Ron, for his part, played the part of unfazed by the announcement of female frustration well. “Well, my advice is to tell him. It is obvious that the bloke is not the shiniest galleon in the bag; so you should make some clear declaration of your feelings, nothing overly romantic or anything, just a message that any man can understand.”
Hermione, blushing, had slowly moved closer to Ron as he advised her on the proper way of getting the message across.
“So do you think this would suffice?” and then she kissed him, nothing over-the-top, simply a kiss.
Ron looked stunned as she pulled away. He cleared his throat, “Um… that should be good.” His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was ablaze with thoughts of his Hermione kissing another guy.
…But all of those thoughts ceased as another kiss was applied to his lips, and this time she didn’t move away.
He pulled her closer, never wanting to let go. He had waited so long to feel her lips against his, smell her intoxicating scent so close, hold her in his arms like there was no tomorrow.
Slowly, the kiss ended, until their foreheads leaned against the other. Looking into her eyes, he smiled. “So this better not be practice for some other bloke out there because if so… he’s dead.”
“No, Ronald, it’s you. It has always been you.”
And he kissed her again.
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