The Valentine's Ball

The Valentine's Ball

I can't fight this feeling any longer

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow

What started out as friendship has grown stronger

I only wish I had the strength to let it show

Ron Weasley paced across the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room nervously. His best friend, Harry Potter, warned him he was going to wear a track in the carpet, but he couldn't stop. Ron knew his friend was laughing at him, but there was nothing he could really do about that. He was just thankful that Harry had agreed to stay with him until Hermione Granger, Ron's other best friend and date for the evening, came downstairs. It was almost time for the Valentine's Ball and their first date. Harry was doing Ron a favor because Harry was going with Susan Bones of Hufflepuff and was supposed to meet her downstairs.

Ron couldn't believe it. He would be seventeen in two weeks, and he was finally going on a date with someone he wanted to be with. And he knew that he didn't only want to be with her for the evening, but for much longer. He just hoped he could find the courage tonight to tell her how much she meant to him.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever

I said there is no reason for my fear

'Cause I feel so secure when we're together

You give my life direction

You make everything so clear

The door to the girls' dormitories opened again, followed by a sharp intake of breath from Harry. Ron whirled quickly, insides burning, sure that this must be Hermione. To his surprise, it was only his sister with some other girls from her year. Ron spared a brief glance to be certain she wasn't exposing too much skin and turned away, uninterested. Had he been less emotionally agitated, he might have wondered why Harry had appeared to have such a strong reaction; it was just Ginny, after all. However, under the circumstances, he did not.

At long last, the door opened once more, and this time, Hermione stood there, followed by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were greeted by their dates, Seamus and Dean. Ron simply stood still, jaw dropped, gaping at Hermione.

Instead of straight, like the last ball, Hermione's hair had been tamed into a mass of even curls cascading down around her shoulders. She wore dress robes of lavender that revealed her shoulders and collarbone and hugged her curves in all the right places. After what seemed an embarrassingly long time, Ron recovered himself, swallowed, and approached Hermione.

"You look amazing," he said softly.

"Thank you," she answered simply, and he could see that she was genuinely pleased. Then Ron started as he remembered something.

And even as I wander

I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window

On a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

"I got you something," he said, going to the corner of a sofa where he had left a small cardboard box. He opened it to reveal a corsage, just a single cream rose with some fern leaves. "It's not much, but I thought it might look nice with your robes."

As Ron presented the flower to her, seeing her face light up, he thanked God he'd decided on a wrist corsage. The very thought of where he might try to pin the other kind made his face grow warmer than it already was. He grasped her hand to place the ornament on her left wrist, feeling a tingle at the skin contact. He looked into her eyes then and suddenly felt more confident. Whatever else might happen, she was his friend. He could do what he needed to do tonight and hope they would at least remain that.

Ron offered his arm, and they exited the Common Room along with Harry, who gave Ron an irritatingly superior grin.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

All through dinner, Ron was rather preoccupied by the confession he was planning to make this evening. He knew he couldn't fight anymore how he felt for Hermione, but it didn't stop him from being nervous about actually telling her. His stomach seemed to be filled with fluttering butterflies, leaving little room for food. He picked uncharacteristically at his meal.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, touching his arm lightly and sending a significant look toward his plate. "You've hardly touched your dinner."

"I'm okay, just...not very hungry," he finished lamely. Hermione gaped at him in disbelief.

"You are sick!" she exclaimed with concern. "The only time I've seen you eat this little was..."

Hermione's voice trailed off, and her face took on an expression of thoughtful consideration. Ron fought back the panic, fairly certain that she was remembering breakfast the day of his first Quidditch match. His lack of appetite that day had been due to nervousness, as it was today. She was sure to make the connection, though he didn't know how much more she'd guess.

All things considered, Ron was grateful when it was time to begin dancing. He had been practicing steps in his dorm room for the past two weeks. The other boys had teased him...at first. After they'd watched him a bit, though, it wasn't long before they were asking his help. Ron wasn't sure how much he'd been able to teach them in the short time they'd had, but he could hope that Neville would manage not to step on his date's feet quite so much. At least it wasn't going to be Ginny this time; she was going with some Hufflepuff.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked Hermione, extending his hand to her and trying to ignore the fact that his palms were sweating.

"I'd love to," she answered in mild surprise. She smiled in a way that made his heart pound faster, though he managed a smile in return.

They found a place on the floor, and she placed her left hand on his shoulder, allowing the sweet scent of the rose to reach him. He put his right arm tentatively around her waist and felt the familiar tingle as their free hands met. After that, he tried to concentrate on the music and the steps, though Hermione's closeness was very distracting.

"You know, for not liking to dance, you're really quite good at it," Hermione commented. Ron made a face, though he was secretly pleased with the compliment.

"Mum made us all learn. She'd turn on the Wizarding Wireless and teach us the steps. I've never had a real partner before, though. Only Mum and Ginny, and they don't count." Ron felt his face growing warm and decided to change the subject a little. In a light tone, he said, "You're following really well. I half expected you to try to lead."

"If I knew anything about dancing, I probably would," Hermione confessed, not taking offense. "I always found books to be my best companions, I guess. I didn't know what I was missing."

The smile she gave him made his throat dry and his breath catch, and he couldn't say anything for a while.

'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

After a few songs, Ron led Hermione out to one of the small balconies that had been magically added to the Great Hall for the occasion. He cast a Warming Charm on the railing and worked himself up to what he was about to do.

"Hermione," he began, "there's something I need to tell you. I probably should have done it a long time ago, but...well. I just need you to do me a favor and not say anything until I'm finished. If I don't say this all at once, I don't think I'll get through it.

"The thing is, there's a war going on out there. Besides, it'll be spring soon, which means it's only a matter of time before Harry puts one or both of us in a life-threatening situation. If anything were to happen to you..." At this thought, Ron's chest constricted so tightly that he couldn't speak for a moment. He took a couple of deep breaths and continued, "...or to me, I couldn't live with myself knowing that you never knew...that I never told you...."

He broke off and turned away, grasping the railing and gazing out at the courtyard. If he didn't look at her, he thought he could make it.

"Hermione, I'm in love with you. I reckon I have been for a long time. At first, I tried to deny it. When that didn't work, I tried to fight it, suppress it. It was too confusing, too complicated. I just wanted things to stay the same. But I can't live like this anymore. I just need to know for sure if there's any chance...."

At this point, Ron broke off and turned to look at Hermione, curiosity to see her reaction winning out over fear. To his surprise, she was smiling, but her eyes were glistening.

"Oh, Ron," she whispered, "I've been waiting three years to hear you say that."

Before Ron really had a chance to process this, Hermione was right in front of him, lifting herself up in a gesture that seemed vaguely familiar. This time, however, as Ron realized with a wave of nervousness and anticipation, she was definitely not aiming for his cheek.

All anxiety and conscious thought evaporated as their lips met, and Ron's mind was plunged into a world of sensation: the soft feel of mouth on mouth, the smell of Hermione's skin mingled with the scent of the rose, and the warmth at every point their bodies touched. The sounds of the ball were gone, but through the blood pounding in his ears, Ron could hear an ethereal music, as though the very stars above were serenading them.

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you

I've been running round in circles in my mind

And it always seems that I'm following you, girl

Cause you take me to the places that alone I'd never find

When they broke apart, after an infinite moment, Ron felt dizzy and weak-kneed. He grasped the railing for support, fearing he might collapse under his own weight. As he recovered himself, he locked eyes with Hermione and saw a smile slowly blossoming on her lips, probably mirroring the one he could feel spreading across his own face.

"Wow," he managed.

"That was..." she breathed.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, not needing her to finish the sentence to know what she meant.

"I think I've loved you since the first time I saw you," Hermione confessed, nestling close to his side.

Ron furrowed his brow, thinking about that, even as he put an arm around her shoulders.

"Really? You didn't act like it."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I was a bit of a fright back then, wasn't I?"

"No, you weren't," said Ron automatically. Hermione gave him a sidelong glance.

"I seem to remember someone in the present company calling me a 'nightmare,'" she said teasingly.

Ron blushed.

"Yeah, well, you did need to work on your social skills," he admitted. He paused a moment, then asked, "So, are we a couple now?"

"You have to ask?" Hermione replied, trying to sound upset but laughing in spite of herself.

"Just wanted to be clear," he answered. "I think we've had enough misunderstandings." Then, he led her back to the floor for some more dancing, feeling as though his feet were scarcely touching the ground.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant euphoria for Ron. Eventually, the ball was over and it was time to go up to the Common Room. Ron paused near the door to the girls' dormitory to bid Hermione good night.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione," he said softly, bending down for another kiss. This one was a little different. It was still wonderful, but Ron felt more aware of what was going on. He at last gave in to temptation and plunged his hand into her wealth of hair. The sheer sensual pleasure of it nearly drove him mad, and he felt a wave of heat and desire pass through him. His eyes snapped open in surprise, and he pulled away, somewhat more abruptly than he had intended. Ron had felt similar things towards girls before, of course, but never when one had been this close, when they had just declared their love for each other. The intensity of it both frightened and excited him. Looking at Hermione at that moment might have crumbled his resolve if he had not loved her so well; her eyes were unfocused and her face flushed, and her quick breathing matched his own. Ron reveled for a moment in the fact that he alone had made her look like that, react like that.

Then Hermione came back to herself, looked straight at Ron, and furrowed her brow.

"Is something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"No..yes...it's just - this night has been so perfect," Ron managed to say. "I don't want to do anything to ruin it."

Hermione's eyebrows were still creased in confusion, and Ron prayed that she would understand, as the very thought of trying to explain himself further was heating his face again. At last, her face cleared, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh. I-I'm sorry," she said, now stammering. Ron had to grin a little at this.

"For what? Being sexy?" he said teasingly. "I'm only human, so please take pity on me and call it a night."

Hermione nodded wordlessly, blushing in a very charming way, and Ron kissed her chastely on the forehead before they left for their respective dormitories.

'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Ron came up to the dormitory to find that everyone but Seamus was already there. Ignoring the other conversations, Ron went straight to his bed and flung himself down on it on his back, grinning widely.

"Balls are absolutely wonderful things, Harry," he commented to his mate.

"Hm. Seems to me you were just saying a few days ago that they were a bloody nuisance."

Ron ignored this response and continued.

"But you know what's even better than that? Kissing. That has to be the best thing ever invented." Ron suddenly sat up as a new thought occurred to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You kissed Hermione, then?" asked Harry, rather unnecessarily.

"Don't change the subject! Why didn't you tell me that kissing a girl was such a completely out-of-this-world experience?"

Harry sat on his own bed, facing Ron, and merely regarded him for a moment. Then he shrugged.

"Because it wasn't. Not for me."

Ron looked at his friend in disbelief. He simply couldn't conceive that a first kiss could be different for someone else than it had been for him.

"You must have been doing it wrong," he declared at last. Harry laughed a little at this, though there seemed to be little real humor in it.

"Or maybe I just picked the wrong girl," he replied sadly.

After this, Ron went quietly about getting ready for bed, as the others in the room put out the lights and pulled their hangings shut. As he was just about to do the same, he heard a soft voice.

"Ron?"

Ron started a little, having thought Harry was already asleep.

"Yeah?"

"How did you know?"

"How did I know what?"

"That you were in love with Hermione. You are, aren't you?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"So?"

Instead of answering, Ron shut all of the bed curtains except those facing Harry and sat down. Harry sat up in bed and put his glasses on.

"I don't know if I'm the best person to answer that," Ron said at last. "I mean, look how long it took me to figure it out!"

"But you know now. So, what does it feel like? How do you know?"

Ron sighed, collecting his thoughts. He really felt sorry for Harry, now that he had a better understanding of what had really happened with Cho last year. He wanted to answer this question as well as he could, but it was hard to find the words.

"I dunno. It's the little things, mostly. Like you notice the way she chews her lip when she concentrates on a problem, or the way the firelight catches her hair at night. You want to impress her, but you can't seem to do anything right and end up embarrassing yourself instead. You want to protect her, no matter how capable she is of looking after herself. Most of all, you want to be with her all the time, and when you aren't, you just look forward to the next time you'll see her."

As Ron had been speaking, he had nearly forgotten he had a listener. When he trailed off and realized what he'd been saying and to whom, he felt himself blushing yet again. Trying to recover his composure, he decided to ask a question of his own.

"Why? Is there someone you think you might be falling for?"

"I..well, maybe. I don't know."

"Come on, you can tell me. I'm your best mate, aren't I?"

"Yes, but this is, well, it's...Ginny."

"Ginny?"

"Yes, well, I've gotten to know her a lot better over the last couple of years. And she looked so beautiful tonight, and we danced a little, and talked, and I just started to think...I don't know." Harry seemed to realize he was babbling and broke off.

Ron was brought up a bit short at this. Granted, a few weeks ago - hell, a few hours ago, he'd have been delighted to find that Harry was finally interested in Ginny. After his recent experience with Hermione, though, he found he needed to reassess the situation. Ron had somehow always believed that all of the awkward feelings that came over him where girls were concerned would simply disappear as soon as he was in love. Now he knew, however, that though he loved Hermione with all his heart and soul, the physical aspect still needed to be addressed. The thought of Harry having those kinds of feelings about Ron's own sister - well, it opened an entirely new box of Flobberworms.

He must have remained silent too long because Harry cleared his throat.

"Ron?" he said uncertainly.

"OK, look," said Ron, reaching a decision. "If you and Ginny can make each other as happy as I am right now, I'm all for it. But you'd better be sure, mate. She's been through a lot already. If you hurt her, you will have at least five brothers on your head, and our friendship will mean nothing. Do you understand?"

Harry swallowed audibly and nodded slowly, though Ron could scarcely see it in the dim light.

"Good. Well, good night then."

"Right. Good night, Ron."

Ron pulled his curtains closed and lay back on his bed, hands folded behind his head. There was nothing like putting the fear of God into your sister's next potential suitor to cap off a perfect evening. Ron grinned at his bed hangings.

Life was good, indeed.