Chatting

It was truly the lull before the storm.

The atmosphere around Hogwarts was more tranquil than it had ever been before. The only hints of wind were in the giant evergreens that unfurled their most verdant leaves. Congregations of students and teachers alike stood outside, marvelling at the wondrous weather that they stood in awe of.

It was quite a sight, students would tell you later, to see both Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in their two very different, but almost identical states. Those who glimpsed Hermione saw her as scatted. Frazzled. For once in her life, unglued to an absolute fault. One Ravenclaw third year would even attest to the claim that she was murmuring a very colorful lexicon of words. Of course, many didn't take to seeing this as being abnormal, but for those who knew her, it most certainly was.

On the other side of the coin, those who were witness to Ronald Weasley's condition would say something a might bit different. Instead of being the openly unglued person he was, Ron was now strolling around PLANNING out what he would say when he met up with Hermione (though Merlin knew that Ron can't plan worth Dungbomb). He also seemed to be (heaven forbid) humming and anonymous tune that nobody could quite decipher.

Now, maybe it was Fate, but maybe it was not so. Matter of fact, neither Hermione nor Ron cared when they smacked into one another (quite literally, mind you) right in front of the large Hogwarts lake. Of course, they didn't care because they were angry at the world, but lack of caring on both parts none the less.

"Hey, watch where you're going, kid!" Hermione yelped as she fell to the ground, clutching her forehead in agony, suddenly feeling like she was Harry in fourth year. Her hair was falling in her eyes, and her robes had become rather splattered with earth and damp sand.

"Why don't you watch it, pal!" Ron shot back, also finding himself in the dirt. His face was smeared with grass stains, and a fresh rip at the bottom of his (third pair this year) robes.

Both stood up, daunted. and began to wipe themselves off. Neither took to looking at the stranger, until Ron muttered something about Apparating to some tropical land where he could be left alone in peace.

"You prat. You can't Apparate from Hogwarts..." Hermione began, quite oblivious to the person that she was lecturing. However, Ron did notice, and walked quite quietly over to Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder before she could continue any further.

"Hullo Hermione."

Hermione practically jumped a mile high. "RON! How completely UNEXPECTED it is to see you here of all places. I mean, I do want to see you of course, but I never thought I would see you HERE..."

Ron smiled, his entire plan running like the furies did. His head nodded in half stupidity, and half breathlessness.

"Well, er... I need to talk to you."

Hermione flushed. "Well, um... okay I guess. I... needed to talk to you anyways."

"Better now than never," she reminded herself.

Ron, being in the state he was, began nodding like wild (it, apparently, is the way he releases his most well bottled nerves). He could tell that his hands were shaking, because he could not exactly get them to fit properly in his robes' pockets.

"What was that BLASTED plan again?" Ron asked his subconscious mind.

"Well what is it that you were going to tell me Ron? I haven't very well got all day, you know!"

Trust Hermione to break his concentration AGAIN.

"I... Hermione... wow. This is really hard to say... I mean, I reckon that every person has this problem when they try to say it... I mean, talk about the person they fancy... no, I mean to the person they fancy about them fancying that person... and well... Did you get all of that?"

Apparently, Hermione had. She was now sitting on the ground, her knees bent towards her chest as she looked towards Ron. It appeared that tears were shining in her warm chocolate eyes.

To Ron, she looked positively breathtaking.

The next part came out as a bit of a shock.

"Well, that must just be your problem, Ron Weasley, because I never had a problem saying that I fancy you!"

Ron stopped, speechless for once in his not so very long life. He could instantly tell that his jaw was hanging rather open, but for once, it did not matter to him the way he appeared. In truth, nothing really seemed to matter to Ron anymore, for he had heard words that meant more to him than all the gold in Gringotts.

He cleared his throat, face turning an appalling shade of vermilion. "Re... really? I mean, you're not just joking around then?"

Hermione shook her head, looking intently at the deep grass next to her. "I... wouldn't joke about something like that Ron. The heart is a fragile thing. I... will give mine to someone who I know will not break it."

Well, Ron had certainly never heard her say anything like THAT before.

"So, um... you really fancy me then? I mean, I am hearing this correctly, am I not?"

Hermione nodded her head, the same pompous voice she possessed telling her to slap him. However, her willpower held her back, and she threw Ron a thousand-watt smile instead.

"So... if I asked you then... will you be my, erm... girlfriend?"

More nodding from Hermione.

More smiling from Ron.

Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, came a question that came up at possible the most inopportune time. Ron stood up straight, and cleared his throat of an awful amount of mucus. "Can I kiss you?"

Hermione's normal emotions took control again. A hardened look plastered itself on her well-defined face. Fire flickered in the back of her cocoa eyes. "No."

Ron shuffled his feet, and looked rather flustered. Taking a place next to Hermione on the soft Hogwarts grounds, he reached out his rather oversized fingers to grasp her own. She gasped slightly, and Ron took it upon himself to move a little closer to the bushy-haired girl.

Ron cleared his throat, a winning grin popping onto his lips. His flame-red hair shone brightly in the hint of day that was left in the skies. "Okay then, Hermione. NOW can I kiss you?"

Hermione began flushing as well. Quite quickly, she wiped her forehead of the sweat that had been collecting under her brow. She tried to muster a tough looking expression onto her face.

"No Ron, you may not kiss me."

"Why bloody well not? Didn't I just tell you that I fancy you, and then... oh what happened next? Oh yeah... YOU TOLD ME YOU FANCY ME TOO!"

Hermione stood there, her mouth gaping at the redhead in front of her. She had a mind to slap him silly as she did to Malfoy in their third year, but he looked so devilishly MIRTHFUL, that she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"Because you just told me that you liked me. In fact, it was originally your LOVELY brother who told me this very...well, interesting thing. To tell the truth, I don't believe that you couldn't buckle down the courage to tell me that yourself! I mean, you are in GRYFFINDOR, for Merlin's sake! But no, little Ron Weasley has to sit his sorry bottom outside and let his older BROTHER tell me that Ickle Ronniekins fancies me! Of all the stupid, sorry things you've done Ron Weas..."

But Hermione never did get to finish her statement, for it was at that time that Ron bent over and gave Hermione her very first kiss. It was not extremely experience, nor was it the most brilliant kiss Hermione could have imagined.

But it was with Ron and for Hermione, that in itself made the moment brilliant.

"Besides..." thought Hermione as she wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and pulled the redheaded boy closer, "Who needs chatting when you have this?"

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From a high tower that many students lovingly called 'Ol' Gryffindor', two faces smiled at the scene beneath them. From where they were, the two students hadn't been able to see the entire conversation, but the last actions more than made up for their wordless real-life stage-show extraordinaire.

"You know, we never do give ourselves enough credit," said Angelina as Fred rested his head on her shoulder. Fred smiled, and kissed her cheek promptly.

"No, I think that I give you just as much credit as you deserve, Ange... none at all. And that, my dearest Chaser, is the truth."

Angelina giggled, and punched Fred off her shoulder. "Well mister Beater-of-the year... why are we being so exceptionally kind today? I know you must want something... and with that attitude, you'll never receive it!"

Fred pretended to look shocked, gripping the sides of his freckled face with his hand. "What, woman, do you have that I could possibly want?"

Angelina leaned over and whispered few-well chosen words in his ear, making Fred turn an awful shade of cerise. She played absently with a strand of his rust-colored locks, and grabbed a hold of his slender fingers. This as well as her (less than appropriate) monologue seemed to do the trick.

"Okay, okay... MAYBE you have a point, Ange. Maybe I do give you less credit than I deserve. Anyways, I was just joking. Why would I say that stuff when I have the most marvelous girl in the whole of Hogwarts all to myself?"

Angelina laughed gleefully, and pulled herself up to sit in Fred's lap. "You better believe that I'm the best girl in this school, Fred Weasley, or I'm liable to take up on a better offer from another man..."

A flash of uncertainty crossed Fred's face, a very rare occurrence in the Weasley boy's lifetime. "...What?" he managed to splutter, while looking Angelina square in the eye. "What... are...you... talking...ABOUT? Was it George? I always told him that you didn't like him like that... or was it Lee? Lee always had it in for you... told me himself, he did. In our second year, Ange. IN OUR SECOND YEAR!"

For once in her life, Angelina could not contain her feelings. Try as she might, she could not help but chortle for an entire minute, leaving a very frazzled (and frankly) very confused Fred Weasley to think while she contained her laughter.

"You honestly think I would ever date any of those guys?" Angelina said loudly, wiping some stray, joyful tears from her large eyes.

Vigorous shaking of Fred's head. "No, no, of course not..."

"Well good. Because I can't very well kiss you if you think I'm thinking about snogging another guy!"

More head shaking. "No, no, definitely not."

And thus the chatting ceased here as well, and when the chatting ends, so does the story.

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