This Dance We Do

Chapter 11: O.W.L. Results

Silence fell over the kitchen. Ron and Harry's eyes met briefly before they looked at the owl, who had started pecking at crumbs left on the table. Harry reached out and took the letters from its leg and set them down on the table.

"There's, uh, one for each of us," he said in a shaky voice as the owl flew off.

Hermione tightened her grip on Ron's arm. The pain that was now shooting through his body had reached almost critical mass; he pried her fingers from his arm and held her hand in both of his.

"Are we going to open them?" Ron asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"You first." Hermione guided him towards the table.

"Why me?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Well, we should do it in reverse alphabetical order, the opposite direction that we took the tests."

"Why?"

"Because, it just makes sense."

"No it doesn't! Wouldn't it make more sense to open them in alphabetical order? You just don't want to open yours first."

"That's not true--"

"Fine!" Harry called out over their voices. "I'll open mine first, okay?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

Harry picked his envelope up like it was a particularly dangerous Howler. Ron felt Hermione squeeze his hand. He looked down, surprised that through their row, however brief it was, they had still maintained physical contact. He took a small step closer to her, grateful that they were together, as Harry opened his envelope and pulled out the stack of papers.

He read down the list, and seemed to pale. Ron's heart dropped; if Harry did not do well, he might as well forget about going back to Hogwarts.

"How'd you do, mate?" he asked cautiously.

Harry started, seemingly surprised to find that Ron and Hermione were still in the room.

"Oh. Oh, um..." He glanced down at the piece of parchment and began to read off his grades. "Well, in Astronomy I got a 'P,' though no real surprise there. In Care of Magical Creatures and Charms I got 'Es.' I got an 'O' in Defense, and a 'D' in Diviniation--"

"No surprise with either of those," Ron joked.

"--An 'A' in Herbology, a 'P' in History of Magic..." Harry's voice trailed off. Ron remembered that exam, how the hell that they were thrown into mere hours later all started with a dream Harry had during that exam. He squeezed Hermione's hand and pulled her a tiny bit closer to him.

Harry cleared his throat and went on in a rush. "An 'O' in Potions and an 'E' in Transfiguration; how'd you two do?"

"Wait a minute, an 'O?' That means you can take N.E.W.T. level Potions!" Hermione squealed.

"I guess it does. Now, I read mine; what do yours say?"

Ron reached out a shaky hand and grabbed his envelope. Hermione gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to him. He opened the envelope and took out his own stack of parchment. On top was a letter from Professor McGonagall, which he ignored. Next was the list of his grades.

The classes he had taken the previous year were listed down the side in alphabetical order, followed by a letter. Ron took a deep, shaky breath, and read the list aloud.

"Astronomy: 'O;' Care of Magical Creatures: 'O;' Charms: 'A;' Defense: 'O;' Divination: 'P;' Herbology: 'A;' History of Magic: 'D.'" Ron almost cried when he read the next grade. He closed his eyes and let his hands drop to his sides as he called the next two grades, "Potions: 'O;' Transfiguration: 'O.'" He turned to Hermione. "You are a ruddy genius, have I told you that?" Ron scooped her up into a hug and twirled her around. "I could simply kiss you."

Ron set Hermione back down on her feet and took a step away from her when he realized what he just said. Hermione was blushing scarlet and looking at her feet and Harry was smirking at them both.

"I just mean, um..." Ron coughed. "Thanks."

"Thanks for what?" Ron could have killed Harry for how much joy he was taking in this.

"I, um, I helped Ron study for his O.W.L.s last term. We started after our meetings with McGonagall."

"Oh, I see." He sounded hurt.

"We would have asked you along, mate, but you already seemed so busy, what with Occlumency, and all." Harry still seemed hurt, so Ron made a mental note to tell him later that it had nothing to do with him, Ron just wanted some alone time with Hermione. In the meantime. "So, Hermione, how'd you do?"

Hermione looked at him, and reached an uneasy hand out for the last envelope. Ron was sure that she was going to drop it she was shaking so badly. She studied the writing on the front, flipped it over, then studied the seal on the back. Suddenly she dropped it back on the table like she had been scalded and backed away.

"I can't," she half sobbed. "Mine's much thinner than either of yours. It's just a letter telling me that they were wrong, I'm not a witch, and I should just stay home."

Ron could not help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being.

"No it's not. And you've got to be kidding, Hermione. You're the top of our year! You're probably better than half the people in the grade above us as well."

"Yeah," Harry chimed in. "You could do that charm on the Galleons last year. You impressed the pants off half the DA."

Hermione was still shaking, but she stepped back up to the table and picked the letter up. She took a deep breath and opened the envelope, then clutched it to her chest and closed her eyes. Ron exchanged a look with Harry; they both knew Hermione was odd, but this was pushing the limit.

Suddenly, Hermione thrust the envelope at Ron.

"I can't do it, will you?"

"Huh?"

"Read it for me. Tell me my scores. Please."

Ron looked down into her eyes and saw something there that he had not expected: utter terror. She really was afraid that she was going fail all her O.W.L.s.

"All right." Ron took the stack of parchment out of her envelope, extricated her grades, and put the rest on the table. As he read down the list he could feel his jaw drop open. He let out a long whistle.

"Oh no, are they that bad?"

Ron chuckled and looked at her. "Bad? Hermione, they're bloody brilliant! You got 'Os' in everything!"

Hermione let loose a shrill squeak and ripped the piece of parchment from Ron's hands, reading over it herself. She then did something that was so un-Hermione that it shocked both Ron and Harry, and possibly even Hermione herself.

Ron almost fell over when Hermione jumped on him--wrapping her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waste--planted a kiss on his cheek and whispered, "Thank you," in his ear before bounding for the stairs.

He was rooted to the spot. He could not breathe, could barely think, all that was running through Ron's mind was what Hermione just did.

He felt Harry nudge him, say something about going into the sitting room, but he did not pay attention as he crossed to the room and sat next to Harry on the couch.

"I guess now that we know what classes we can take, Hermione's going to want us to come up with our timetables, huh?"

"Huh?"

"Ron, hello? Is anyone home?" Harry waved a hand in front of Ron's face, but all he could do was nod.

Hermione had jumped on him, him, Ronald Bilius Weasley. Ron thought about it, about the way she had felt, pressed up against him. About the way her hair smelled and the skin on her bare shoulder felt. About the way her breath felt in his ear as she thanked him, and how smooth and soft her lips were on his cheek.

And then he had to think about something else, fast, because he was not alone in his bedroom, but in Hermione's sitting room, with Harry looking strangely at him. Ron closed his eyes and imagined it had been Snape who had just jumped on him. He shuddered and made a disgusted sound, but the image worked...and would probably give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Yes, timetables, right." Ron cleared his throat and rubbed his hands over his eyes. "Well, I suppose we could just let Hermione do most of it for us, you know she's going to want to anyway. What's that?"

Harry's attention had shifted to the rest of the pieces of parchment that had been in his envelope.

"Well, this one," he held up the letter from McGonagall, "is just telling us that these are our O.W.L. scores, and that we can choose which N.E.W.T. classes to take now. This one," Harry held up the parchment that was beneath his scores, "is a list of what N.E.W.T. level classes I can take and the books I will need to get. This," he held up the next piece, "is from Dumbledore lifting my life long ban from Quidditch with a post script from McGonagall saying that she expects me back on the team. And this one," he held up the final piece "is the information that we need for the Sixth and Seventh Years' Winter Ball."

"So you'll be back on the team, that's great, we really need you. And Ginny will be able to try for Chaser--" Ron stopped short, Harry's last comment sinking in. "Wait, what's that about a ball? Like in fourth year? Where we had to dress up and dance?"

Harry simply nodded and put his head in his hands. Ron slumped back on the sofa. The last ball did not end too smoothly for him. He managed to get a pretty enough girl to go with him, but that was the night that he realized why his stomach had started to knot whenever he saw Hermione, why it angered him so when Malfoy called her that name, and why his heart seemed to burst when she would smile. That was the night that he realized that he fancied Hermione Granger.

0Of course, he did not realize it until he was in bed, after he had insulted her choice of dates and completely ignored his own.

Then what Hermione had said before she stormed up to the girls' dormitories came rushing back to him.

Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!

Ron made up his mind, he was going to ask Hermione to this ball, before anyone else could beat him to it.