While the Music Plays

While the Music Plays; 02

"Hermione? Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Ron asked quietly, sitting down on the desk Hermione had conquered, which was covered with books, notes, and spare parchments.

If Ron didn't know Hermione better, he would've sworn her eyes had shown hope, and her voice made her sound high.

"You just did, but you can ask another one," Hermione said.

"Urm...well...I was wondering...Is that a letter to Krum?" Ron's eyes widened in surprise and disgust at himself.

Hermione frowned deeply to hide her disappointment. "What's it to you, Ron?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry." Hermione blinked at Ron's words. She had expected another row. He just continued. "That wasn't the question I wanted to ask you, though."

"Oh?" Hermione allowed a pint of hope rush into her, but not too much, in case she might be raising her hopes for nothing.

"D'youwannagototheballwimme?"

"What?"

"Er-Do you want to go to the ball with me?" Ron repeated. "I mean, I understand if you don't want to, and everything, but I think it would be fun to go, you know. As friends."

Hermione arched an eyebrow, not knowing what to feel. Happy; because he had asked her to the Graduation ball, or disappointed; because he just wanted to go as friends.

Ron saw her struggle with emotions, and with a boost of Gryffindor courage, he offered, "Or maybe just more than friends?"

Hermione, much against her will (which wasn't too strong, considering Ron's beautiful smile), broke out in a grin, and nodded. "Of course. I'd love to."

*

"Oh Merlin," Ron whispered as Hermione emerged from the girls dorms and started ascending down the staircase. "Oh Merlin," he repeated, unable to say anything else.

Hermione's wild hair was let down. It wasn't bushy, but it wasn't straight either. It wasn't wavy, it was...perfect. Her dress was such a light pink, it would be an insult to call it pink, but white wasn't it. It shimmered in the light of the torches, and framed her body perfectly, showing just the right curves. The dress robe trailed behind her, leaving an aura of beauty.

"Oh Merlin," he repeated for the third time.

Hermione giggled. "You like it?"

"You look really beautiful," Ron said, unable to take his eyes of her. "No, beautiful is an understatement. You look...perfect."

Hermione giggled. "I know, the dress is so wonderful, isn't it? Your mother gave it to me."

Ron shook his head. "It's not the dress that makes you look beautiful. It's you that makes the dress beautiful."

Hermione blinked back her surprise. "Wow, Ron where did that come from?"

Ron shrugged. "I have absolutely no idea." He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Hermione giggled and nodded.

The four house tables in the Great Hall were gone, and they were replaced with numerous tables for two. Ron guided Hermione to an empty one, noting that practically every boy in the Great Hall (even Malfoy), was drooling when she passed.

Ron pointed to Ginny and Harry, slow dancing on the dance floor. "They make a sweet couple, don't they?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. I thought you would be so angry when you knew about them. Afraid you'd go into your whole overprotective big brother mode."

"On my best friend? Never. They're perfect for each other," Ron declared.

"It's great Harry has someone to love just when the war's starting," Hermione agreed.

"Yeah," Ron said, his voice sounding a little far away.

Hermione stared into Ron's eyes, and he stared into her hazel ones in silence.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes filled up with tears, and they flowed down her cheeks. Ron, on impact, grabbed her hands, which were on the table, and covered them with his own.

"What did I do wrong?" Ron asked, sounding a little panicked.

"Nothing. I'm just a little...I don't know. Scared," Hermione finished lamely. "With the war and everything."

"Oh, 'Mione," Ron said, hugging her. "It's all right."

"One day you'll be gone, Ron. You and Harry. You'll leave me alone, lonely, and alone."

Ron was silent, and Hermione broke away.

"Promise me you'll never leave," Hermione whispered.

Ron didn't answer. He felt like choking on the air he was breathing.

"Promise you'll never leave me, Ron," Hermione urged.

Still Ron didn't answer. He felt tears stinging, and fought to push them back.

"Promise me, Ron, promise me!"

"I can't, 'Mione."

"Why?" she demanded.

"One day, I'll be taken from you. It's inevitable, Hermione. They'll take me away," Ron said. He sighed before he continued. "But, I can promise you this. As long as the music plays, both here, and in your heart, I will never go."