It Must Be Love

Chapter 7

It seemed to take no time at all for Ron to reach the door to the common room. The decisiveness and certainty that had come to him so suddenly had vanished as soon as he reached for the knob. The smooth cold metal sent a tingle through his fingers as he clasped it. He couldn't do this... He couldn't, Hermione would hate him, and he wouldn't even have the chance to give her the gift.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed gently on the large oak door, and peered in. The charm to turn the room red was wearing off, and a soft rose colour remained. Balloons covered the floor, and the few bubbles that remained drifted around the room lazily, gently rebounding off surfaces. At first glance, it looked empty, but then Ron noticed a figure sat in the armchair by the fire, silhouetted by the flickering light. Ron didn't need to see the girl head-on to recognise the dark, wavy hair cascading down her small shoulders. She sat quietly, leaning back in the chair reading from a large book in her lap - she didn't seem to have noticed him enter the room.

"Hermione?" Ron stepped forward slowly - almost cautiously, clutching the small box in his hands.

Hermione looked up from her book, and equally slowly, she looked around. "Ron?" A long silence followed in which the two looked at each other self-consciously. Ron met Hermione's eyes, and gave her a nervous smile.

"Hapbirday," he said quickly. Hermione frowned slightly, but it was a thoughtful frown.

"Sorry?" Her tone was soft - it calmed him, and allowed him to clear his head before attempting speech again.

"Happy... Happy birthday, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him from her chair. She was smiling - she looked touched. Before Ron realised what she was doing, Hermione had leapt to her feet, run across the balloon-strewn floor, and flung her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, shocked, and tried to hear her as she spoke into his shoulder.

"Oh Ron, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to stiff you like that, I was just..." He let go of her and tenderly placed his thumb beneath her chin, lifting her face gently until her gaze met his. They stared into one another's eyes, Hermione's glittering with tears. Smiling at her, Ron lifted a hand and carefully wiped away a tear from her cheek. He still had not removed his thumb from her chin.

They stared at each other for a moment longer, but then Hermione turned her head away and Ron allowed his arm to drop by his side. She continued as though she had never stopped.

"I was just upset because Harry told me you didn't want to dance with me, and you were acting as though you really didn't like me and it... Well I guess it kinda depressed me." She spoke quickly and looked up, blushing furiously, but she seemed determined to meet his eyes as she finished.

"I like you Ron... I mean I really, really like you."

Some sort of explosion seemed to be taking place somewhere around Ron's midriff. She likes me! She actually likes me!

"Oh God Hermione, I like you too!" He gushed breathlessly.

Hermione had steadily been blushing redder and redder, but refusing to look away from his face. Now, an elated expression took hold of her, and she smiled up at Ron in relief. In a single movement, the two stepped to each other and embraced lovingly. Ron closed his eyes and rested his chin on her head. Hermione leant into him, eyes shut, and buried her face in his shoulder. They didn't speak. They didn't need to. They both had all they wanted in the world, right then and there, and were content in clinging to each other silently.

Minutes passed before Ron realised he still had not given Hermione her gift. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away, holding her at arm's length. She really does look beautiful tonight, Ron thought. Her long silky night-dress hung loosely to her feet, somehow emphasising her slim, curved figure. The fading red light tinted the pearly white gown pale pink, and her small feet peeked out from beneath it. Her large brown eyes looked into his, sparkling with happiness, and a slight smile lingered about her face. She wasn't wearing makeup, and looked strangely sweet and innocent with her dark unkempt hair waving onto her shoulders freely. Smiling at her, he finally spoke.

"I've got something for you." He extracted the box from his pocket, frowned at it for a moment, then reached for his wand. "Operire," he muttered, giving the box a sharp tap. Starting from the tip of his wand, delicate silver paper wound around the box, covering it completely. Lilac lines curled and waved across the paper. Hermione gave a small laugh as he handed it to her grinning.

"First time I've managed that charm! Well... Happy birthday." He was beginning to get nervous again. What if she didn't like it? That jewellery could have been a mistake. Well, I always have that chunk of Cairngorm I guess, he thought distractedly.

"Oh! Ron!" Hermione breathed. She stared down into the box, the silver paper in her hand beneath it. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were wide in disbelief.

"Do... Do you like it?" Ron asked worriedly. She looked up at him, still looking surprised, but she was smiling at him.

"I love it!" Ron smiled at her. "It's so beautiful, where did you get it? Where did you get the gold?" She was now carefully extracting the fine silver chain from the box, so as to get a better look at the beautiful pendant hanging from it. Just over half of it was in pure silver, perfectly smooth and shaped. The other half was of tiny circles of sparkling diamond, bonded together carefully to form the outline of a small heart.

"Don't worry about the gold 'Mione," Ron said firmly, "Forest nymphs enchanted it to give confidence to whoever possesses it. I thought it was pretty... Like you." They looked at each other momentarily, both blushing, then Hermione looked down at it once more before trying to put it on.

"Here, let me help you," Ron said quickly, rushing forward and taking it from her. She smiled at him, then lifted her hair. He walked around her slowly, determinedly keeping his eyes up at her neck, willing himself not to look down. Then, standing behind her, he carefully did the catch.

Hermione dropped her hair and turned to face him, smiling. "How does it look?" She inquired softly.

"It looks great, just like I thought it would," Ron murmured, watching it twinkle round her neck. He looked up into her eyes, and whispered, "The sparkle brings out your eyes... You have great eyes." They looked at each other for a fleeting second, then each took a simultaneous step forward.

Ron's hands found her hips, and Hermione's hands stayed by her sides, holding the box and silver paper. They leant into each other, Hermione lifting herself a little, Ron slightly bent. They both shut their eyes as they kissed. It was a small, innocent kiss. Short and sweet. They leant out of it and looked at each other for a moment. Hermione smiled. Ron blinked. Dropping the box and paper, Hermione raised her arms and wound them round Ron's neck, pulling him towards her once more.

He closed his eyes. After all, he didn't need to see anymore - he needed to feel. Hermione's hands reached into Ron's hair, twisting it around her fingers. Ron felt her warm body press against his, her gentle hands teasing his hair, her soft lips caressing his. His hands tingled on her hips, his whole body seemed intoxicated as she kissed him tenderly. He was trembling again, but from optimism and excitement.

Eventually, Hermione pulled away, both of them breathing deeply. Insides still squirming with sheer happiness, Ron smiled at her. She smiled back, her expression masking his feelings of relief and happiness. Turning around, Hermione bent and picked up the black box and silver paper, then walked back to the armchair and retrieved her book (Protect the Past - True stories of witches and wizards plights with time-turners).

Ron, although finally satisfied that his relationship with Hermione was going to work out as he wanted, and still in a floating dreamlike state from the kiss, could not shake a feeling of guilt. He, Ron, had made Hermione cry and drink recklessly - he had to explain himself. When Hermione came back up to him, holding the book, and opening her mouth to speak, he interrupted her quickly.

"Hermione, I have to explain. I feel so guilty - I'm really sorry. I didn't want to dance with you cause I didn't think you liked me. I was worried I'd ruin our friendship if I told you the truth and so I lied and acted like a right bast - " Hermione smiled at him, and with her free hand, put a finger to his lips before he could continue.

"I know. Harry and Ginny explained how you felt, I understand completely - that's why I didn't act on it sooner. Our friendship's so important to me Ron. I really care about you." Ron took her hand in his and gently pulled it down, away from his lips.

"I care about you too Hermione." And he leant forward for another kiss, but this time Hermione side-stepped him, grinning. He flushed red, and looked at her silently laughing at him.

"I'll see you in the morning, Ron. Goodnight." And she leant upwards, kissed him on the cheek, and strode towards the girls' dormitories, leaving Ron staring at her from the centre of the room. Grinning in spite of himself, Ron turned and made towards the stairs, but just as he was turning the handle of the door - that smooth, cold handle - Hermione called from the other side of the room.

"Oh, and Ron?" He turned, still clasping the doorknob, and saw her leaning out of the girls door, "Thanks."

He looked at her, confused. "For the necklace?"

"Well..." She wrinkled her nose slightly as she smiled, "For everything I guess." And with that, she turned her back and left. He heard the soft patter of her small feet running up the stairs. Smiling to himself, Ron pulled on the door and left the pale pink common room, climbed the brightly-lit stairway, and entered the dormitory, to find Harry sat up, waiting for him.

"Well!" Harry whispered loudly, grinning. "I would ask how it went, but by the look on your face... And your messed-up hair... I don't think I need to!" Ron, who was now sat on his bed, grinned back at Harry, and threw a pillow at him.

Everything's finally working out, Ron thought. It had taken six years, but he and Hermione were finally together, and him and Harry were better friends than ever. Sure, he liked other girls, and he even loved some. But as he had said before, it was different with Hermione. She was special. And he was in love with her - that swooping, swirling feeling he got inside him whenever they were together - that was the proof of it. And he knew she felt the same way too.