A Fairy Tale Ending

"All the ladies, if you will, Madam," Prince Charming requested politely.

Cinderella's step-mother reluctantly called for her step-daughter, looking very unhappy. In less than a minute, Cinderella entered the room. The royal footmen quickly placed the shimmering glass slipper on her foot.

"This is she," Prince Charming declared upon discovering the slipper fit. "This is the girl I am in love with."

Hermione slammed shut the thick, leather bound book of Muggle fairy tales, and sighed deeply. "You know Ginny, I can't believe that you have to read this!"

Ginny grinned at Hermione. "Yeah, but it's the price I pay for taking Muggle Studies, I guess." She took the book from Hermione's out stretched hand and sank into a squishy, red armchair. "It is an important part of the course though. It's typical 'Muggle children's literature'

Harry looked up from his Potions essay, which he had been agonizing over for the last hour. "But it's so corny," he said disapprovingly, "The hero saves the girl from unknown dangers, evil relatives, or sorcerers. Hero falls in love with girl. Girl falls in love with hero. Hero and girl live happily ever after for the rest of their lives. How much more unrealistic can you get?" Harry shrugged, as if answering his own question, then turned back to his essay.

Ginny grinned again and flipped through her book. She muttered silently to herself while thumbing through a few pages, until finally; she found her spot and began to read once more.

"It is a little romantic though," Hermione said thoughtfully. "To be rescued by a hero, to fall in love, to live happily ever after." She sighed dreamily to herself.

Ginny and Harry both threw Hermione exasperated looks before turning back to their studies. Ron on the other hand, was sitting across from Harry, staring out the window with his jaw clenched and a blank expression.

"Well, I think that they're just bloody STUPID!" Ron snapped quite suddenly, making a small cluster of third years at a table nearby jump nervously.

"Shh... we should go to our dorm..." one whispered audibly to his obviously frightened friend. "In first year, he and that girl with the big hair got in a huge fight on Christmas..."

Another nodded in agreement. "Yeah, c'mon. Let's go before it gets worse." The younger students scurried quickly up the dorm stairs, throwing fearful looks over their shoulders as they went.

Hermione turned pink and placed a hand on the aforementioned 'big hair'. Ron's ears burned a bright red and he turned his gaze to look out the window once more, still fuming.

Harry, on the other hand, looked vaguely amused at the situation, and he chuckled softly to himself. "Really, guys. It's just some third years; it's not as if they really know anything about either of you."

Ginny smiled. "Harry's right, you know. Don't worry about it," she said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"That's not the bloody point," Ron mumbled darkly without looking away from the window.

Hermione's face quickly returned to its normal color, and she stopped patting her hair.

"I guess," she said quietly, not meeting Ron's eye.

Hermione was obviously still embarrassed, and hastily busied herself with a large stack of homework piled in front of her, then searching through her bag, she found a book on Ancient Runes and opened it, upside-down, to page one-thousand three-hundred and thirty nine.

The four sat in silence for a while, until Hermione stood up and announced, "I, er, have a four foot essay for Ancient Runes due in two days... I'm, er, I'm going to finish it upstairs I think, easier to work up there..." She flushed a very faint shade of pink and clutched her book to her chest. "I'll see you all in the morning then. It might take me all night to finish." Hermione grabbed her bag and parchment and walked quickly up the stairs to the girls' dorm before anyone could reply.

Ron, gaze still fixated on the window, cocked one eyebrow. "What's she on about, 'an essay due in two days?' She never waits this long to finish her homework. She's obviously lying," he concluded firmly.

Ginny sighed exasperatedly. "Will you never get it?"

"Get what?" Ron and Harry, who had been listening with slight amusement, chimed in unison.

Ginny could barely resisted rolling her eyes. "It's just... oh, never mind, it's nothing. Just nothing. And Ron?" she said amusedly. "You can stop staring aimlessly out the window now. It's dark out, so you can't see anything anyway. And you have that Potions essay to finish as well."

Ron meekly took out a long roll of creamy parchment and a beaten up eagle quill from his bag. "Harry, mate, lemme see your notes," he demanded after a few failed moments of trying to find anything relating to the ingredients needed for the Elixir of Life.

Harry slid over a worn and crumpled piece of parchment and said, "They're a bit... worse for wear I'm afraid. I left my bag outside during Quidditch practice and everything got soaked."

Ron shrugged. "S'ok, mate. My bag split in the hall last week, remember? I dropped nearly everything, including my notes from Potions class, and they exploded. The twins must've left something in my bag. Explosives are their area of expertise."

Harry grinned weakly. "Well, you're free to use mine. I'm done. I'm finally done with the whole ruddy essay," he said again, sounding very pleased. He rolled up his completed essay and slid it into the bottom of his bag.

Ginny, who had been watching, sighed and curled up, catlike, in her chair. "Well, I've got six more fairy tales to read, so I'll be up a while. You going to bed, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. See you two in the morning."

The three called their goodnights as Harry disappeared upstairs, and within half an hour, Ron and Ginny were the only ones left in the common room. Ginny yawned loudly and turned the page of her book. Ron glanced up from his not-quite-finished essay, and glared at her, throwing down his quill decisively.

"For Merlin's sake, Ginny! Tell me!" he yelled in exasperation when she didn't seem to notice or care that he was about to burst.

Ginny looked up, surprised. "Tell you what, Ron?" She asked, uncrossing her legs and arranging herself so she was facing him on the couch.

Ron groaned. "What were you going to say before!" he said tensely.

"Say before... when?" Ginny asked, confused.

Ron took a deep breath. "You said I didn't get something about Hermione and.... Youwouldn'tsaywhat," Ron said this last part very quickly. His ears immediately turned a bright pink and he stared into the floor as if it had become suddenly very interesting. Ginny bit her lip to stop the enormous grin that was beginning to take over her face.

Ginny finally gave way to the smile as she let out a small shriek of joy and jumped up from her seat to hug her befuddled looking brother. Her book of fairy tales fell from her lap to the floor with a faint thud.

"Oh, Ron! You care! This is the best thing that's ever happened! You want to know! How wonderful of you!" Ginny let out another giddy little shriek and squeezed Ron all the harder.

"Can't - breathe - Gin," Ron choked out, turning purple. Ginny let go immediately and settled into the seat beside him, still looking immensely thrilled with Ron.

"Now," Ron said clearing his throat, and smoothing his robes, "tell me."

A wave of guilt suddenly crossed Gunny's face, and she tried to smile. "I, er... can't," she mumbled, feeling guilty. Ginny felt her face begin to burn.

Ron gaped, wide-eyed at Ginny. "What do you mean you can't tell me!? You act all... giddy and girlie that I want to know, and then ... and then ... you don't tell me!"

Ginny bit her lip and averted her eyes. "Well, I promised I wouldn't," she said sadly. "I would tell you though. She'd be glad to know."

"Glad to know what?! And who is she anyway!? Ginny, what in the bloody hell are you talking about!" Ron yelled, throwing his arms into the air angrily.

Ginny swallowed nervously, and caved in, her brother looked horribly helpless. "Fine, I'll tell you. Just shut up or you'll wake the whole dorm. But I'm warning you now, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll hex you so badly, you'll have bats on your face for months."

Ron nodded in quick agreement, remembering Ginny's famous Bat-Boggy Hex in vivid detail. "Fine. Just spill it, Gin."

Ginny glared to let Ron know she was serious before continuing.

"It's Hermione." Ginny said, and let out a long breath. "She, er... well, she... kind of... fancies you." She looked expectantly at Ron - who didn't visibly react- then continued on wards, a little more confidently, "And, well, she obviously got embarrassed because of the fairy tale thing."

Ron stared at Ginny, in a dead stupor. The look on his face said quite plainly that he never imagined a girl, let alone Hermione, would like him. "But... why?" he asked after a small silence, in a voice that Ginny could barely hear.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well... Harry's, you know, kind of the hero type. And she was just going on about how sweet it is when the hero finally gets the girl... and she's...well, I guess, Hermione's just kind of... the girl. In the nicest way possible of course-- I mean, Hermione doesn't exactly fit your average damsel in distress description, but it's how the rest of the world sees her."

"Like that cow, Rita Skeeter," Ron muttered darkly. Ginny ignored him.

"So, I really don't know what you can do or anything. Maybe just apologize," Ginny said thoughtfully after a moment. "But... well I'll just leave you to your essay, I guess. Night, Ron." Ginny flashed Ron a small smile and got up from her chair.

"Don't worry, Ron. Things will work out. You'll see." She said comfortingly. Ginny smiled at him once more, then rushed up the dormitory stair case and disappeared down the shadowed hallway.

"Yeah, things will work out-- just like a perfect, wonderful fairy tale," Ron snorted bitterly at the thought.

He rolled up his parchment slowly and shoved it into his bag along with his quill, buckling the whole thing up and throwing it loudly onto the table.

Then, turning towards the inviting heat of the slowly ebbing fire, Ron sat hunched down in his chair, just thinking, for a long, long time.

His gaze drifted lazily to Ginny's fallen book of fairy tales, his eyes boring into it like a laser beam. Why don't you read one? asked a little nagging voice in the back of Ron's head. Just read one little, teeny fairy tale.

"Yeah. Why not? It's just a book. Hermione's always saying I should crack one open every so often." Ron winced at his using Hermione's name. Ron's thoughts drifted to Hermione, and he could see her in his mind's eye. She's so beautiful. Ron wasn't entirely sure where that thought came from, but he convinced himself it was the little nagging voice in his head again. He shook himself back to normal before picking the book up and opening it to the first page.

"This looks thrilling," he muttered sarcastically. "'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves'... Well... it's now or never, then." Ron shrugged and began to read.

And he read, and read, and read. He read the story of Sleeping Beauty, with the spinning wheel where she'd pricked her finger and fallen into a death like sleep for one hundred years. He learned about little elves making shoes for a poor shoemaker and his wife ("That fellow looks like Dobby!") He was entertained by a short little story about a beautiful princess sleeping on a stack of mattresses with a small pea hidden underneath (A story that he still didn't entirely understand). Hours later, after reading what seemed like the whole book, Ron yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"Well, now that I've learned all there is to know about Muggle children's literature," he said to himself, "I'm going to bed." Ron gently closed the book and stood up sluggishly. He looked around the room sadly. I wish I could talk to her now, he thought regretfully. He sighed sadly and began to climb the stairs to the boys' dorm.

"Did you like the one about the elves?" asked a timid voice from across the room.

Ron jerked his head around to see who was there, his heart beating madly. "H-Her-Hermione?" he stuttered, his ears beginning to burn.

Hermione flushed and ducked her head. She stepped out of the shadow and into the firelight. Ron couldn't help but notice how beautiful Hermione looked in the flickering red light. "Hi, Ron," she said softly.

Ron gaped for a solid minute before realizing this was his chance, his chance to apologize. He was about to launch into a huge apology and explanation, when--

"Ron, I'm really sorry about what I said... you know, fairy tales being so romantic and all. I just... I didn't realize how that would come off. And, if it makes you feel any better, I do find them a bit annoying... it's more the true love part that I like." Hermione flopped onto the sofa, wringing her hands.

Cautiously, and more than a little nervously, Ron stepped towards Hermione. When she didn't look up, he sat down next to her hesitantly, his knee skimming hers gently. A strange, warm, but prickly feeling ran down his spine. His head felt light and woozy, and he could feel his temple pulsing. He unconsciously slid his hand onto Hermione's and squeezed it comfortingly. It felt strangely cold.

"Ron?" Hermione choked out in a quiet voice. "I don't always like fairy tale endings. I don't really want one for myself. In fact, I might just die if it did. An ending doesn't always need to be a fairy tale ending to be perfect."

"It doesn't have to be," Ron said in a hoarse whisper, "but this one is." And then, Ron, the hero, and Hermione, the damsel who wasn't quite in distress, both gave way to their senses and dissolved into perfect, fairy tale bliss.

And so, Cinderella left her evil step-mother and step-sisters behind forever. Then, she and her Prince Charming, rode off into the beautiful sunset, in a majestic carriage drawn by six beautiful white horses. And of course, they lived happily, ever after.