When the Lights Went Out

When the Lights Went Out

Hermione/Ron

The last thing Ron heard before he slammed the door in the bushy-haired girl's face was screams of "RON! DON'T YOU DARE...! YOU GET BACK HERE, I'M NOT FINISHED!" Honestly, did she ever take a break? He collapsed onto his creaky, old bed with a sigh, sinking into his orange Cannons bedspread. It was the winter holidays, for goodness sake. Can't she take a break for Christmas? Surely there was a reason for this. He decided he would ease his mind by writing a letter to Harry.

Harry,

When are you getting here, mate? She's driving me nuts. She, meaning Hermione, of course. How long could that thing with Dumbledore take? I'm falling apart here. I hope you don't take too long.

I really don't like fighting with her. She's smart and funny and when she looks at me with her big blue eyes, I start to feel something inside, like I'm going to be sick, but it's wonderful and tweaky and fluttery. And when I feel that, I don't want to let it go, like it's something hanging on a thin string about to break, and as long as I keep looking into those eyes, it'll stay.

He reread what he'd written, put a dark X through the whole bit about Hermione, and tossed it into the nearest garbage bin. I'm out of my mind, he thought to himself. I must be going completely nutters. This is Hermione we're talking about. Hermione who loves to argue with me, loves to prove me wrong. And yet, he reflected, looking out the window at the softly falling snow on his windowpane, she always forgives me in the end, doesn't she? Sighing, Ron decided to go outside and wave a white flag. I miss her already... Miss her?! That's it...I am out of my mind... Hermione and I are friends and nothing more. Even if I am... you know...madly in love with her just a tiny little bit, she would never, ever feel the same way about me. Ever. I mean, why would she, when...agh. He stopped thinking, because by then he didn't know what to think. This was too much. The redhead sat back down on his bed, wondering if he actually should chance going out there. I mean...they always fought, right? And they always made up in the end, right? With that thought in his head, he left his room as fast as his tall, gangly legs would let him. Which, incidentally, was pretty fast.

When Ron came down the magically-snow-laden stairs, Hermione was playing Exploding Snap with Ginny in the kitchen. Both girls shot Ron a dirty look when he crossed the room. Out of my mind. Completely. How could I even think of this?

"Hermione, listen... I really don't want to fight with you..."

"Oh, is that why you slammed the door in my face when I was trying to reason with you? Look, Ron, I don't really want to talk to you right now." Bossy little backstabbing, conniving, jealous...

He felt a pang somewhere above his stomach, where his heart was. And he stalked off. So much for that.

But as soon as he had left the room, Hermione choked, "I'm sorry, too, Ron," in a squeaky voice that suggested she hadn't said sorry to anyone in her entire life. Oh are you? That'll teach me to...oh, those eyes.

"Uhm...do you want to take a walk or something?" Ron asked. He seemed to have lost all conscious thought and turned to goo.

The girl looked like she was considering it. "Maybe later... I mean... Homework... and stuff...no time."

"Oh." He shuffled out of the kitchen, his legs feeling rubbery, and into his room to be angsty again.

Harry,

You've GOT to help me here. Have you ever had girl troubles? The kind where you really don't know what to say? Where you take one look at that bossy, jealous witch and wonder WHY ME? And that brown, bushy hair that's...interesting...in its own respect but that nobody finds particularly attractive becomes the most appealing thing in the world? And this girl, who has blue eyes that kind of stare into you, you know, like they're reading you, like a book, which she likes...she's just special. You know? You've probably never felt like that, but -

Ginny entered the neon-orange room without knocking. Ron looked up darkly from what seemed to be a letter he was writing. Probably to Harry.

"Ron, why don't you just tell her?"

"Because she doesn't like me anyway and we fight all the time and - Ginny!" he squeaked, his voice going up more than one octave as he hastily shoved the letter into his owl's talons. "What are you talking about? Tell who what?"

"Her. I mean, it's not like it would do any harm."

"Who's her? Her who? There's no her. There's never been a her..."

But Ginny had already turned on her heel and bounced out of the room, looking satisfied with herself. Ron peered out the window to see the beginnings of what he thought would be a snowstorm later. Yawning, he decided to go down the stairs. Like I can't go down my own stairs in my own house. I can do whatever I want. And she, of all people, Hermione, can't stop me from doing anything I want to do, especially - what was that noise? Ron checked in the kitchen again before looking in the living room. There she was. Folding laundry, of all things to do at your friend's house. It was oddly comforting to him that it was such a Hermione-ish thing to do. It reminded him of old times when there was nothing more to think about in a day than when to play Quidditch and when to feast in the Great Hall, and the occasional Potions essay. (That and killing trolls, saving the wizarding world from evil Dark Lords, almost being murdered by particularly vicious chess pieces, among other things, but really).

Anyways, the noise. It was her, and she was singing. Singing? I've never known Hermione to sing before. Blinking, Ron stood in the doorway for a few minutes before deciding he should say something.

"Hermione?"

She turned, a surprised, cold look on her face. She obviously wasn't completely over that little fight they'd had earlier. Her faced turned a bright shade of pink. "Ron."

"Can I...show you something?" At that point Ron didn't know what he was going to show her, but he needed to be talking to her again. Needed to be hearing her voice and feeling her next to him and falling in love with her all over again...all those things that best friends do, you know.

He led her into a room with a mirror and lots of photographs. Hermione, always observant, looked around the room. "Well...it's really nice and all in here, Ron, but I've seen all this before."

A bump above them. Must be that ghost that lives in the attic, or the snow storm.

The lights flickered for a few seconds and then went out.

"Hermione? You okay?"

"Yeah. Except that we're kind of stuck in this room until we can find the door."

"Well, I think I could. But, I mean, we're not in any sort of hurry...we can just...talk for a while, I mean, if that's okay with you, if it's not, I'll go find the door, but if it is...that would be..." Ron took a breath. Since when did I become a babbling idiot? She'll say no. She'll tell me to find the door now before things get out of hand. She'll -

"Okay."

Ron didn't know what to say, so he just muttered, "Thank you."

"No, thank you."

Ron waited for the sarcasm.

It didn't come.

Hey, Hermione. I like you. A lot. In fact, I love you. "Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Erm... I want to tell you something."

Now or never.

He didn't wait for her answer but whispered, "EverytimeIseeyouIfallinloveagain."

She swallowed. The silence was thick, enveloping them and dripping in the air. She knew she had to say something. It was only fair to him that he know how she felt... "Ron, I...I...you..."

STUPID. STUPID. STUPID. WHY did I say that. WHY?I knew she'd never love me. At least not the way I love her, the way I feel when I see her in my dreams, and she always replies to me -

"I love you too." Hermione whispered. He could hear the smile in her voice.

For some reason, they pulled closer together, like they were magnetized.

A silence descended on the two. They were now close enough to feel each others' breath on their faces.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"There's mistletoe on the ceiling. Right above us."

"Oh...there is?"

"Yeah."

"But it's dark..?"

"Yeah, but I saw it before the lights went out and I can feel it above our heads and - mhfhhgmhm."

The next thing Ron felt was Hermione's lips on his and realized he had leaned forward and felt for her and kissed her. And all he knew is that it was right. And he hoped it would stay forever.

Finis.