Cinema Air

Ron sat on the edge of a twin bed, his chin resting in his hands. The moonglow streaming through the lone window illuminated the room in a faint, pervasive light. He had been having trouble getting to sleep for well over an hour after he had shut the door to the guest room he was staying in, the red glow of the Muggle clock told him so. A combination of daring thoughts and anxieties were keeping his eyes open. He had only arrived at the Granger's home two days prior, and he had been received with welcome and open arms by both Hermione and her parents. His dealings with Hermione's parents had always been rather awkward, whether it being their relative timidity concerning the magical world or his father's knack for endlessly quizzing them on the functions of Muggle objects. However, under their own roof, they had turned out to be gracious, kind and extremely intelligent. Ron understood where Hermione got her love of reading as there were collections of books strewn throughout the house; intermixed with endless tomes on dentistry were the collected works of Muggle authors that transcended the often massive wall between the Muggle and Magical worlds: Plato, Shakespeare, Freud and many others. There was even a small collection of poems by a man named Eliot resting next to the light on Ron's nightstand. It seemed that whenever Hermione's parents were talking with he or Hermione, they were nose deep in a novel or textbook of some kind. It was all very comical to Ron, and Hermione seemed oblivious to the irony.

"As smart as she is," Ron mused to himself. "It's a wonder she can put up with me." Ron never thought much of his own intelligence, he had always used his wit to get by. Harry had remarkable bravery and Hermione was a walking library, but Ron had to make do with what he had been given. It was frustrating often times, sitting in class as he and Harry would rifle through pages for an answer Hermione knew in her sleep.

"Hermione," he whispered. It always seemed to come back to her, in some way or another. She was just so frustrating, so...."Complex," he thought out loud. Ron turned and slid underneath the covers of the bed, slowly resting his head on the pillow. He had been overjoyed when Hermione had followed through on her idea that Ron and Harry should come to visit her. Unfortunately, Harry's stay at the Dursleys was no longer a choice but a necessity. Within the confines of Privet Drive, Harry remained outside of You-Know-Who's grasp, much to his (and assuredly his aunt and uncle's) chagrin. Instead of refusing the offer for Ron to come alone, however, Hermione had insisted he come to stay.

"I've been to the Burrow so many times, it's only fair," she had said in a letter two weeks before Ron had departed for Southern Wales. Ron's mother had put up little protest, with all of the children she usually had to take care of, being left with only Ginny seemed to be like a miniature vacation. Ron had taken the Knight Bus to the edge of Hermione's small town, where he had been picked up by Hermione and her father. The first evening had been pleasant, but he had been extremely nervous and concerned with making a good impression that he had spilled his glass of milk not once but twice at dinner, much to everyone else's amusement.

Ron rolled away from the window and closed his eyes after a long sigh. The day's events had been, as Hermione had warned, relatively dull as Sundays often were. Most of the shops either closed up early or never opened outright. Ron had bested Hermione in two games of Muggle chess before she called it quits, and they had opted to take a walk around her neighborhood. The few other teenagers they saw didn't acknowledge Hermione, Ron knew that she had never had the best luck making friends before arriving at Hogwarts, but it was evident in her eyes that she still craved acceptance from her non-Magical peers. Ron had managed to keep his composure a little steadier at that evening's dinner and avoided another spill. Afterwards, he and Hermione had spent a great deal of time in her backyard. Hermione had swung in a stripped tire suspended to an Oak tree as Ron had leaned back on the grass. Her parents never made so much as a peep until the sun had gone down and they offered the two of them steaming cups of sugar-free hot chocolate substitute.

Ron still couldn't shake the last he had seen Hermione that night, however. They had said their good nights, but it seemed like she still hadn't gotten over being ignored earlier in the day. Before Ron could even manage a semblance of comfort for her, she had strode quickly into her bedroom and shut the door. "What's it going to take...." he thought as he slowly drifted into a fitful sleep.

Early morning sun greeted Ron, causing his eyelids to radiate until they were forced open. His legs were tangled into a mess of sheets and the quilt and his face was turned back towards the window. The glowing red numbers read half past eight, and Ron groaned. It was far too early to even consider getting up. As Ron's eyes began to flutter close once more, however, a slamming noise brought him out of his daze. Pushing the sheets aside, Ron lumbered over to the window and looked down onto the Granger's driveway. Mr. Granger was backing up in a small beige car with Mrs. Granger sitting in the passenger's seat next to him, sipping from a plastic mug. The car rolled backwards into the main street and slowly drove out of sight, lost in suburban Britannia. Ron had entirely forgotten that Hermione's parents would be at their dentistry office until late in the afternoon, and his heart quickly began to thump audibly in his chest. Suddenly, the light blue, fairly dull walls of the guest room came alive with wonder, splendor and perhaps the most enticing thing of all: possibility. The sensations were hard for Ron to process, and he frowned. What was he so excited about? It's not like Hermione would ever like him that way....

"What am I thinking?" Ron said to himself, sounding very shocked. "I....It's Hermione, my friend! She and Harry are my best friends....I don't...."

Ron's voice began to trail off, leaving the room silent again. The emptiness of the room confronted him, screamed back in his ear the feelings he had so vehemently denied. The hurt he saw in her eyes last night, the feeling of being ignored and unwanted, Ron knew all about it. It was hard being in such a large family, and his mother and father did their absolute best, Ron had no doubt about that. However, he had often felt that he had fallen through the cracks, that he hadn't been exceptional. "That's what I like so much about her," he thought, turning back to look at his bed. "She makes me feel....special." Ron shook his head. It was liberating, talking like this, even if it was only in his head. The brightness that seemed to dominate the room hadn't gone away and it seemed to Ronald Weasley, as he headed into the bathroom to shower, that it was going to be a beautiful day.

Ron had never been in such a splendid bathroom. The only thing that seemed more amazing than the bathroom was the fact that he was so impressed with a bathroom. Regardless, the hot water was both quick to appear and didn't like to leave early for another engagement, and Ron enjoyed a nice stay. It had given time to reevaluate his situation, which was looking more and more like a battle plan as he mulled it over. He had started with the facts.

1) I have feelings for Hermione.

2) I have no idea if she has the same feelings for me.

3) Her parents will not be home until late afternoon.

Keeping these three important factors in mind, Ron began to mull over different scenarios that could take place before the Grangers returned from a hard day's work on the canals. However, all of his plans seemed to involve an incredibly suave, debonair character that vaguely resembled himself but could manage feats of strength, class and intelligence that Ron was assured he would never be able to perform. Resigning himself to look for the "right moment", he turned the faucets off and reached out behind the curtain for a towel, a towel that Ron quickly discovered didn't exist. Peeking his head out into the guest room, Ron saw that only his toothbrush and a roll of toilet paper were not somehow attached to the wall. The Grangers had forgotten to add a set of fresh towels. Slowly, the creeping sense of embarrassment settled in as Ron realized he had two choices, both providing their fair chance of potential disaster. If he called for Hermione to bring him a towel, he could hide in utter embarrassment behind the curtain and hoped she didn't push the issue. On the other hand, the guest room was only across the hall....

"No!" Ron thought. "There is no way I'm running stark naked anywhere in this house." Sighing, Ron pulled the curtain back. "Hermione!" he bellowed. There was no response, so Ron cried out once more. "Hermione! I need your help!" Faint footsteps soon grew closer until Ron heard someone come to a stop outside the bathroom door.

"What is it, Ron?" Hermione's voice was filled with a strangely large amount of concern.

"I....uh, I need a towel. You're fresh out."

"Oh....Alright, I'll be right back." Footsteps trailed away for a moment, and then returned. A knock followed. "Are you decent?"

"I'm behind the curtain!"

Ron ducked his head back behind the shower curtain as the door slowly swung open. Even after all the steam, he felt his cheeks blush and was sure he was as red as an apple. After a moment, Ron thrust his arm out past the curtain and a towel was quickly placed in his hand. "Thanks," he called out. The creaking of the door once more sounded Hermione's exit from the bathroom, so Ron quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and thrust the curtain open, stepping out with one foot.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, staring at him wide-eyed.

Ron cried out in horror and turned to the curtain to slam it back shut when the foot still in the tub slipped on the remaining moisture and Ron began to careen towards the tile floor. As the seconds before impact grew smaller, Ron made sure that his head would take the brunt of the impact as he just could not allow his other hand to let go of the towel strewn loosely about his waist. Preparing for the blow with gritted teeth, Ron braced himself, but he found himself stopped just before impact and moved to right himself. Hermione had caught him around the waist and given him the leverage he needed to stand back up against the wall. Holding on for a brief moment longer, Hermione soon gasped and let go, turning her head to face the opposite wall. After a quick glance down at his towel to make sure everything was properly concealed, Ron looked up at Hermione as her eyes slowly returned to him.

"Thanks," he said weakly. She blushed in return.

"I was just putting some more towels on the rack on the back of the door," she said, obviously feeling the need to explain why she had still been in the room.

"Well, I guess I should have looked."

Hermione managed a small smile and then quickly brushed past him and out the door.

"I'll start on breakfast," she said breathily, and without a second glance, disappeared down the hallway.

Ron grimaced. "Very smooth, Weasley," he said to himself in a dejected whisper. "Very smooth."

Ron and Hermione ate their breakfast in silence. Hermione had made french toast and scrambled eggs, which Ron wolfed down quickly. He was surprised that Hermione could make such a fine meal as she didn't appear to be the domestic type. Throughout the meal his eyes would occasionally travel up to steal a glance at her, but after his eyes met hers he spent the rest of his breakfast closely examining his diminishing helping of eggs. After finishing and putting his dishes in the sink, he turned and leaned against the kitchen countertop and watched Hermione chew.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what you had planned for the day."

Hermione took a sip from her orange juice. "Well, I'm not exactly sure. I thought we could take bikes out and about, or there's a particularly nice pond off of a path we could visit. There's a tire swing you can ride out to the water, it's always good fun." She smiled up at Ron.

"Sounds wicked! I'll go put my trunks on under my jeans." Ron turned and hurried upstairs as Hermione bussed her plates. His heart began to thump with anticipation once more. Perhaps he could still make a good impression after the embarrassment of the shower that morning.

Ron stared in awe at the endless rows of houses that looked like exact copies of each other. It was a far cry from the Burrow, as the neighborhood was extremely uniform, orderly and, in a way, sterile. To Ron, it lacked the personality that made a place like the Burrow a truly inviting home to return to. It had always been strange to him whenever Harry and Hermione had droned on and on about their stays at the Burrow and how much fun they had there, but he understood a little better now in the face of the endless suburbs. He realized that he had fallen a considerable distance behind Hermione, who was staring straight forward as if on a very important errand, her flip flops clacking on the sidewalk. Ron spotted a small dirt path that formed between two benches just off the sidewalk. Hermione had said it was only a short walk from her house, right around the corner actually. Ron quickly scurried forward, hoisting the small cooler they had packed onto his shoulder, until he was alongside Hermione as they made their way onto the dirt path, which laid on a slight decline. Hermione remained silent as they passed by a multitude of growing undergrowth. It was strange to Ron to go from one extreme to another so quickly, but a portion of these same woods had bordered Hermione's backyard, so it wasn't entirely alien. After a small bend and a steeper decline, Ron could see the pond coming closer. Ron noticed Hermione manage a small grin out of the corner of his eye but couldn't bring himself to turn and gawk at her again lest she get suspicious. Even in a pair of overly large coveralls that she wore over her bathing suit, Ron couldn't help but think of how stunning she looked. It was a truly enjoyable sensation for him to mull over her beauty again and again in her head. It felt like a well of repressed emotions, ones he had never fully realized, were now running free and letting himself daydream of her did some to alleviate his anxiety about keeping calm and cool around her. Ron sighed as the two of them walked onto the small knoll that overlooked the water.

The area around the pond was grassy and mostly elevated off the water except for a small, well-worn path to the water below where a small collection of rocks and sand had piled up inches from the water's edge. The tree that Hermione had mentioned was a massive Maple that seemed to reach up and grab the sky in its arms. One massive arm hung out over the lip of the hill the Maple rested on, extending over the water. Attached to the hunky branch by a large rope was a simple tire. Another smaller rope had been tied from the tire to one of the loose roots of the tree so that it could be reeled in and used. Another, slightly smaller branch jettisoned out perpendicular to the branch supporting the tire. There was a small dip in the wood as it wove out over the grass. Hermione came to a stop underneath the shade of the grass and set her towel down. Ron set the cooler down next to her towel before setting his own down. He then turned and looked out over the inviting water and sighed contentedly, tossing a smile in Hermione's direction. She returned a brief, sheepish grin. "I'm very surprised there's no one here...." Hermione said, nearly in a whisper. She sounded very relieved.

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's fairly hot for the end of summer. Just figured they'd want to make the best of the time they had left...." Hermione sent another quick smile at Ron, and then turned away, reaching for the clasp on her overalls. Ron instinctively turned to one side and kicked off his shoes before fumbling with the button to his jeans. He heard a slight ruffle as Hermione discarded her overalls, and his eyes quickly glanced in her direction. Her back was still facing him, but he couldn't help but stare at her. Her hair was slightly unruly and her skin pale from endless evenings in the library, but she was nothing short of a vision to Ron. A stunning example of beauty. As she turned, Ron quickly looked away and fumbled with the rest of his clothing, stripping down to his own bathing suit.

"You suspect it's cold?" he said, concerned.

Hermione managed another smile as her eyes averted from his after a brief glance. It seemed odd to Ron to be in so few clothes in the presence of Hermione, but there was also that nagging excitement that had been bugging him all day. That was there too. "I think it just may be freezing, Ron," she said in a coy manner, and then turned to walk towards the tire swing. After she untied it, she placed one foot within the confines of the beaten tire and turned to look at Ron. "Well, are you coming or not?"

Ron swallowed and grinned sheepishly. "I suppose so." He walked over slowly, trying to discern the nature of Hermione's playful expression. The branch lurched slightly as Ron placed one foot in the tire, overlapping on Hermione's. She didn't seem to notice, or just didn't mind. The two of them took a few hops back towards the trunk of the tree, and with a nod, the two of them pulled themselves up onto the rope and pushed off the ground. They swung out over the water, pressed next to each other as their arms tangled around the worn length of the rope and Ron smiled broadly at Hermione, who returned the favor a mere moment before her arms flung out to her sides and she fell backwards towards the water below. Ron watched as she plummeted and splashed through the water with a giddy shriek. After a few moments of muffled anticipation, she resurfaced with her hair pressed down by the water.

"You better get in here, Ron!"

Ron let himself swing back towards the tree twice more before he too took a leap of faith into the water below. As he feared, it was extremely cold and the final days of summer in the south of England weren't the warmest. But the temperature wasn't much of a concern as he cleared the water from his eyes and found himself near inches away from a Hermione who looked more pleased than he could ever remember. All the worries, all the cares and hardships and concerns that had developed during their time at Hogwarts seemed to have been washed away by the murky water of the pond. She was smiling like the cares of the world were little more than afterthoughts, and Ron felt his heart surge with warmth. He found that he could do nothing but smile back at her, and that was enough for him. For a long time, longer than Ron thought to keep track of, it seemed to be enough for her as well.

Three hours later, the pond had seen every manner of flips and twists that Ron and Hermione could manage off of the tire swing. Feeling both well rested and exhausted at the same time, they made their way back to their towels and sat there, slightly shivering, as they dried themselves off. There had been very little conversation beyond calls of "Watch this!" when one of them had come up with a particularly ridiculous stunt to attempt off of the tire swing. Ron still had water up his nose from a failed "super-switcher double twist". After finding himself reasonably dry, Ron pulled on his jeans and shirt and turned to see Hermione had thrown on the overalls once more. They both quickly exchanged another round of awkward glances before Ron turned to the cooler. He opened the top and removed two root beers from the ice inside. After another quick glance at Hermione, Ron walked over to the low branch that ran parallel to the pond's edge and hoisted himself up to sit in the bow. There was a wonderful view of the once again calm waters, and unless Ron had known better, the last thing he would think to be on the other side of the trees opposite him would be ever encroaching urban sprawl. With a sigh, Ron looked back at Hermione who bore a confused expression, as if unsure what she should do. Ron nudged his head for her to come over, and he popped the top off each Root Beer. The thumping in his chest accelerated as she smiled and made her way over to join him up on the branch. For once, it seemed to Ron Weasley, everything was just going smoothly. Hermione crawled up onto the branch with some difficulty, and Ron had extended a hand as she finally made her way over the top to extend herself, the extra root beer held between his legs. She whispered a small "Thank you," and made herself comfortable sitting next to him. Ron handed her one of the sodas and then took a swig from his own. It was frothy and delightful, and Ron set it back down onto his thigh with a pleased exhalation.

"This is wonderful," he said matter-of-factly. The scenery was breathtaking.

"I've always loved coming out here when it's quiet," Hermione answered.

"You mean when no one else was around," Ron said, directly.

"Well," Hermione began, and then paused momentarily, searching for the right words. "I never did....too well, you know. With the other kids. I know why now."

"Because you're so much smarter? Or the fact that you're a witch?"

Hermione laughed, but it sounded very forced. "I think a little bit of both, actually, Ron."

Ron took another drink from his root beer. "They're being silly, you know."

"How do you mean?" Hermione said, suddenly sounding very interested.

"Well," Ron swallowed hard. "I mean, what's not to like?" Ron swore he heard Hermione gasp very, very softly, but he couldn't bear to look at her. All he could see was a faint glimmer of a smile out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly glanced down at his bottle of pop. "I mean, it's not every girl who can...." Ron struggled for the compliment that would be just right, just perfect. "....get me to pass my Potions O.W.L." As soon as he finished his sentence, Ron wanted to slap himself. Potions? O.W.L's? What was he thinking? Ron noticed Hermione's smile slowly fade back into an expression of nothingness.

"Oh, Ron," she said modestly, and sent her arm around to slug him playfully in the chest. Ron, however, was too busy cursing himself to see the light blow coming. The impact was just enough to thrust the unsuspecting Ron backwards and careening off the branch. A moment later, Ron's back slammed into the earth with a thud.

"RON!" Hermione gasped, and then leaped down off the branch. "Are you alright?"

Ron was rubbing his head, which had landed dangerous close to an exposed stone. His behind was stinging slightly, but he was fine otherwise, and quickly sat up. Looking down at his shirt, Ron saw a smatter of root beer spills covering the shirt, and he cursed himself once more. "I'm fine," he muttered. Hermione stood up and offered him a hand, which he took and she wrenched him to his feet.

"I'm so, so sorry, Ron." Her eyes glimmered with apology.

"It's okay, just don't know your own strength, I suppose," he said, and forced a smile. "I really need to watch myself, it's my second fall so far." Ron shook his head and then turned to walk over to the cooler. "Way to go, Weasley," he thought. "A real piece of work."

They had walked back to Hermione's house in relative silence. It was past lunch time when they walked into the door, and Hermione quickly threw together some sandwiches that they ate quickly and voraciously. After the food was gone and the dishes were taken care of, the two of them sat down in the living room on the Grangers sofa. An uncomfortable silence seemed to purvey throughout the room, and Ron found himself able to look anywhere except at Hermione. Collections of baby pictures were littered throughout the room, and Ron quickly made a point to find as many embarrassing pictures of Hermione as possible.

"This is a riot, how old are you there?" Ron pointed to a picture of an infant Hermione waist deep in a bowl of spaghetti, looking very accomplished. When he turned to look at her, expectant of an answer, she was blushing. Standing from the sofa, Hermione walked over to get a closer look.

"I was two at the time, I think. Mum's got all the dates on the back of the pictures." After a glance at a couple other pictures, Hermione made her way for the entryway into the kitchen. "So, what would you like to do with the rest of our afternoon. My parents were thinking we could go out for dinner tonight." Her voice sounded as if she was anxious to get Ron away before he saw anything else to poke fun at her for. After a lingering glare at a picture of Hermione smiling with her two front teeth missing, Ron turned and nodded.

"That sounds nice, but you're the host. I'll go along with whatever you'd like."

"Well, the theatre is playing a wonderful old movie. I've seen it many times over."

Ron hadn't been to a Muggle theatre before, although he had heard much about them and even read a little on how they worked in Muggle Studies the past year. He grinned widely in excitement.

"Sounds wicked! What's playing? Lots of explosions?"

Hermione frowned. "No, Ron. It's a very nice, very old movie. It's called Top Hat. I saw the times on the paper this morning. We'll have plenty of time if we start walking now. I'll leave a note for my father to pick us up afterwards and we can head to dinner from there."

"Well, what's it about?"

Hermione rested her hands on her hips. "I'm not going to ruin it for you!" Ron's eyes pleaded with Hermione, who sighed defeatedly. "A woman falls for a man who she thinks is someone else. There's lot of dancing, it's absolutely fantastic and I love it. Satisfied?"
Ron nodded. It sounded awful boring at first, but he wasn't about to tell Hermione that. "I'll go change." Hermione nodded.

"Me too."

Ron had rifled through his belongings. If he was going to be headed to a movie and dinner with Hermione, he wanted to look as presentable as possible. The one nice shirt he had brought with him had been stuffed at the bottom of his bag, but it had avoided any serious wrinkles. With a smart pair of slacks he had packed at his mother's urging, Ron suddenly felt transformed. He walked across the hall to the bathroom and admired himself in the mirror. It was the rare occasion that he actually strove to look nice, much less achieve his goal. For the moment, however, Ron Weasley felt invincible. A splash of sagebrush cologne that he had swiped from his father only seemed to heighten his confidence as he strode down the stairs to find the kitchen still empty. Hermione was still changing. After a few minutes of pacing, Ron turned as he heard steps descending the stairs. Hermione's often bushy hair seemed to have been smoothed and made to behave, and her eyes were twinkling with a mix of happiness and anticipation. She wore a simple black dress with a red cardigan. A pair of Mary Jane's were making the ruckus as she made the final steps to the kitchen. Ron struggled to keep himself from saying any of the outrageous compliments he was running in his head. A moment passed where both of them looked the other over, and they both smiled at each other. Ron couldn't help but think Hermione was giving him a knowing smile, but he put it behind him. "You look very, very nice," he said quietly.

Hermione blushed. "Thanks, you do too! I'm very impressed."

Ron turned to look at the door. The sun was starting its descent from its noonday peak. "Shall we?"

Hermione stepped forward towards the door as Ron opened it for her. "Lets."

The walk to the theatre had seemed to fly by. Very few cars had passed them as they had traversed the quiet neighborhood and eventually found themselves headed down the main street of the quaint village on the sea. The ancient docks merged into a sea of brick buildings that housed inviting Muggle shops and restaurants. There were close to fifty ships out in the harbor, although some of them looked worse for wear. He only seemed to notice one good ship still sailing. It was a very picturesque scene, he thought, as they made their way down a slight decline and into the heart of the downtown area. A few minutes later, Ron noticed a sign for the Gloria Theatre, and below, the words TOP HAT and the listed showtimes. "We're right on time," Hermione said with a grin towards Ron, and her arm grazed against his. Ron swore her skin was electrified. Walking up to the ticketbooth, Ron quickly dove into his pockets as he saw Hermione reach into her purse. Scrounging all of the Muggle money he had brought with him for the trip, "Just in case," his mother had said, he placed it down on the counter.

"Two for Top Hat, please."

The cashier looked very puzzled, and returned three of the four bills to Ron before turning to make change. A moment later, a few coins and two ticket stubs were handed back through, which Ron took. Turning to Hermione with her ticket, Ron saw a look of pleasant surprise on her face.

"You, you didn't have to do that, Ron," she said.

"I wanted to." He grinned and extended the ticket, which she took, and together they strolled inside. The theater was extremely old, but also extremely well kept. The rug was a deep crimson color and the walls and ceilings had been painted with golden patterns. Three doorways led to the separate theaters, and a snack counter sat in the middle of the room like a hub.

"I'm going to grab us some popcorn," Hermione said with a smile, and made her way over. Ron watched her go, his heart thumping. His vision seemed to blur all around unless he focused on her. She was so unbelievably beautiful, it was hard for him to take. He wanted to grab her and make her realize how wonderful she was, but the fear that gripped his heart kept his lips from telling the truth. Instead of doing all the things that were screaming from his insides, Ron straightened his slacks and waited patiently. She returned a moment later with two bags of popcorn, one of which was handed to Ron. "Alright, this way." Hermione motioned towards the second theater, and the two of them made their way inside.

It wasn't what Ron had been expecting. The lack of color made him think he was watching the longest photograph he had ever seen, perhaps something the Daily Prophet would run on a slow day. Regardless, there was something endearing about it. After they had taken their seats in the virtually empty theater, Hermione had begun to talk endlessly about the stars of the movie: Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Apparently they had been big Muggle movie stars during their day, and Hermione talked about a bunch of other movies Ron had never heard of until the lights had dimmed and the movie began. Ron had been more and more pleasantly surprised as the movie progressed. He identified with Astaire's character, Jerry Travers, a little too well (except for the whole dancing bit). Ron had often felt like he was pretending to be something more than he really was. Between Harry, Hermione and himself, they had foiled the plans of You-Know-Who time and time again, but Ron never felt like he had done anything particularly brave or noteworthy. Sure, he had played a great game of Wizard Chess and slugged it out with the Death Eaters, but Harry was the real hero. Or even Hermione, she had always been there to get them all out of trouble. Ron sighed and turned back to the screen.

As what Ron soon learned was the final dance number began, he glanced over at Hermione, who was watching the screen intently with a faint smile. She looked completely lost in the story, as if she was there herself, dancing in a beautiful ivory dress. Ron turned his eyes back to the screen, and he began to believe it himself.

His steps were both hurried and precise, his smile broad and his voice strong. He had never heard the song before in his life, but he knew every word.

"Heaven, I'm in heaven...."

Her smile was glorious and warm, and the orchestra behind them only seemed to compliment the picture. He and Hermione danced their way into a black and white fairy tale, and he savored every moment, his heart thumping.

"....and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak..."

Every uncertainty, every anxious feeling, melted away as Ron danced with her. The steps and words seemed to melt effortlessly into the background and he focused his whole onto her.

"...and I seem to find the happiness I seek...."

With one flick of his wrist, Ron twisted her and brought her close, their shoes mere millimeters from touching as their steps began to slow and Ron brought his cheek to rest against hers.

"....When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek...."

As if on instinct, Ron seemed to drift back from the picture and into his seat. Fred and Ginger were about to finish their number when Ron turned to steal another look at Hermione. She seemed so incredibly happy, and looked so incredibly beautiful. Without a moment's hesitation, Ron fluttered his hand over the armrest and settled it on top of hers, squeezing it ever so lightly. Hermione looked down to their hands resting together, and then slowly up to Ron, who bore a sheepish expression on his face. Hermione seemed to search his eyes for an explanation, and then a warm smile spread across her face. She turned her hand over and let their fingers slip between each other until they shared a firm, but comfortable, grip. She examined their hands held together for a few moments, and then turned her gaze once more to Ron. Her lips began to open when Ron quickly brought a finger to his own lips. He then leaned in close to whisper.

"I don't want to talk about it, to worry about it, to do anything about anything other than hold your hand," he said softly. "Let's finish the movie." He grinned at her, and she returned the smile before leaning back into her seat and giving Ron's hand a squeeze.

After the credits rolled, dim lights turned on throughout the theater. They both seemed reluctant to let go of each other for even a moment, but did so to stand. Ron followed Hermione out into the pathway, and as she started to make her way for the door, Ron snatched her hand and pulled her around to face him. Her eyes gazed upwards at him, a desperate longing resting inside. Ron stuttered for a moment, searching for the right words, and then, with a sigh, he spoke.

"I can't, just can't hold this in any longer." Ron took a deep breath. "You're too amazing of a person to think otherwise, to think that you're not special. That you're not the most wonderful person I've ever met or the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Ron averted his eyes from Hermione as he spoke, but after a few moments, managed to glance in her direction. Her mouth was slightly agape and her lips were trembling. A mixture of shock and adoration seemed to swirl with the collecting tears in her eyes. All the bells and whistles of his heart sounded off inside of him: now was the time to come clean. "I love you, Hermione. With all that's happened to us, and the very real possibility that one or both of us may not survive the coming year, I'm not prepared to accept another second without you at least knowing how much you mean to me." Ron looked down to the hand that was gripping hers and he squeezed it tightly. "I can't go on without you at my side."

The tears that had rested on the cusp of Hermione's eyelids began to flow freely, and she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Ron," she sobbed into his shoulder. After a moment of hurried breathing, Hermione pulled away slightly from Ron's body and looked up into his eyes. Ron savored the cinema air that swirled around them, and he felt as if he had stepped back onto the silver screen as his lips ached for hers. After a brief second of anticipation, they kissed. Ron let his hands hold her snugly against him, refusing to let his lips stray from hers for even a moment. All the petty fights and quick glances, the hard times and even the uncertain future seemed a distant care in that perfect embrace, and Ron savored every moment. Hermione finally pulled herself away just enough to look once more directly into Ron's eyes. "I don't want to spend another second without you either." Hermione snickered. "It's silly, now that I think about it."

"What is?"

"All the fighting, all the nonsense...."

Ron held up his finger to Hermione's lips. "I don't want to waste any more time on any of that."

Hermione's eyes glimmered with adoration, and she rose her other hand up to grab Ron's finger and slowly lowered it. "I love you, Ron."

It felt like the stars that dotted the night sky had burst underneath his skin and their light was like a warm summer rain washing over his body. With a glowing smile, Ron leaned in for another kiss. He was met with the joy he had sought for far too long.